


Nested Across

by Fishfootidentity



Series: Little Twigs [2]
Category: Dorohedoro
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Childhood, Dorohedoro manga spoilers, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Manga Spoilers, Sorcerer biology, Worldbuilding, nerds being nerds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 40,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26390080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fishfootidentity/pseuds/Fishfootidentity
Summary: Canon-divergent AU: an owlish sorceress befriends young Risu (before he ever joined the Cross-Eyes). After contemplating the harshness of the sorcerer world, the two begin a new life in Hole. That is where they meet Ai Coleman, a boy who wanted to become a magic-user and leave the damn place.In his quest to study magic-users in hopes of becoming one, Ai also takes precautions to keep his new friends alive and safe.(Contains some world-building and personal interpretations, as usual, plus a heaping amount of OC backstory.)
Series: Little Twigs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1937179
Comments: 32
Kudos: 18





	1. Sorcery and Misery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for description of violence, injury, and blood.  
> For this AU, Komimizuku has ‘she/her’ pronouns, not yet becoming Fukurou.  
> Some reference to #122 “The Pit of the Stomach”, where Risu remembers who he was before he joined the Cross-Eyes.  
> Timeline math: Ai worked with Dr Kasukabe for a year before the surgery and death. So this fic takes place roughly 14 years before the manga’s main storyline. Risu would be 10 years old here.

**.....**

In the world of the sorcerers, reproduction tends to be an afterthought. Having offspring is not a widespread aspiration in life, but instead, a consequence of momentary lust with no regard for protection. Demons do not punish sorcerers for abandoning children of any age.

While nuclear family structures are rare in this world, there are always others who can raise children. Distant villages and small towns are more likely to see kind old folk looking out for the little ones left behind. Cities, on the other hand, are places where regular adult sorcerers can go about their business without distraction.

Children are conceived and born in cities, regardless. Hence demon churches and affiliated organisations set up orphanages and other such houses of welfare to take in and raise the abandoned kids.

Rauyim Home for Destitute Orphans, located between the cities of Zagan and Mastema, is one such house. Social workers are paid (not a lot) by demon churches to educate the children. If there are children of exceptional magical talent, they are transferred to Sytri Academy: a prestigious school funded directly by Chidaruma, the original demon himself.

A crossroads in more ways than one, Rauyim Home sees many parentless children come and go every few months. Some children grow into young adults with mediocre or low smoke-making abilities, but they would leave the House in many years’ time. For now, there is a relatively constant group of untalented young sorcerers living there.

None of them is as big a loser as the kid who cannot put out even a small waft of smoke.

**…**

Komimizuku works as a printing assistant at a real estate agency. She walks from her mother’s house to work and back.

She always arrives at work early or on time, not because she is a punctual and dedicated employee. The truth is, she would do anything to stay away from her mother’s house.

Komimizuku will leave that dreadful place one day. For now, as the work day comes to an end, she thinks of buying pastries for tomorrow’s breakfast. After staying back for half an hour, she visits a humble bakery and carries out the earlier part of her plan.

She dawdles when walking to her mother’s house, as per usual. Sometimes, like today, she will stop and watch the orphans at Rauyim Home playing in the field. Whether they are boys or girls or neither of those, the children are allowed to run free and play whatever sport they had the equipment for.

 _Imagine not having parents that enslave you by virtue of you being born and raised by them_ , Komimizuku thought bitterly. _It must be nice._

Well, it is a nice thought – until the reality is _not_.

A number of boys are throwing projectile smoke at a strange-looking boy wearing shorts and a tattered jacket. He is taller than most of them, his blond hair interspersed with dark spiky strands, his blue irises shaped in vertical convex slits.

The other kids are ganging up on him, but he is not throwing smoke back at them.

_Why would that be the case?_

The strange boy does fight back – with his fists and feet. With his size, he has some advantage in a schoolyard brawl, but this field is not played with physical strength alone.

A scrawny boy blasted smoke just enough to cover the strange boy from neck to knees. When the dark smoke clears, he is frozen in an unbalanced stance.

“What are _you_ staring at?” one of those able to use smoke shouted at Komimizuku, finally noticing this quiet witness to the ongoing cruelty.

“C’mon, let’s take him to the usual place where no one can see,” the scrawny boy said.

As the bullies drag the strange boy around the corner of a disused-looking building, Komimizuku reminds herself that children who are free of parents do not lead easy lives either.

**…**

_What did I do to deserve today’s beating?_ Risu wondered.

He was just walking around the field, kicking a hollowed-out coconut shell, when the Filthy Four surrounded him and started pushing him around. Masuda, Kyuuma, Akagi, and Takaichi. Four boys with mediocre levels of smoke, lording over the Home’s other children who are weaker than them.

While Kyuuma and Akagi threw projectile smoke at Risu, Masuda said something about being a know-it-all in Fundamentals of Magic class. Takaichi went on to say that no matter how much Risu studies, he will never produce smoke in his lifetime.

Risu managed to slug Masuda and Akagi in the onslaught. He managed to knock out some of Kyuuma’s teeth when the boy told him to ‘go back to Hole, human’. Trying to land hits on Takaichi is more difficult, as he can use minor but effective defence-type magic.

He barely noticed the owl-masked sorceress in blouse, blazer and office skirt until Masuda blasted him with immobilisation smoke. Takaichi was the first to notice the staring owl, and Masuda suggested to continue beating up Risu outside public view.

So the Filthy Four dropped him in the middle of the Rauyim Home storage shed’s tiled floor, kicking and stomping on his immovable body. Kyuuma particularly laid some heavy payback on Risu’s face, bruising his eye and cheeks.

It was only when Risu began coughing up blood that the Filthy Four stopped. Akagi is afraid of getting into more trouble than necessary, and Takaichi goes pale when he sees blood.

Around the time their laughing voices fade away, so does the magic that stopped Risu from controlling his body. He regains motion and sits up with his back against one of the less stained parts of the shed interior wall.

The blood that ran down his chin is drying up. He did not need to see the darkening stains to know that there are black particles there: proof that he is a sorcerer by nature and should be able to use magic. He has seen the flow of his blood often enough in previous beatings.

Risu lifts his right hand, trying to will out smoke from any of the fingers. Nothing. He turns up his left hand. No smoke either, no matter how much he wants some to appear.

The storage shed door creaks open. Risu cowers more closely against the wall; in his current state, it would be bad to provoke the bullies further.

“Kid? Are you okay?” If not for the word choice, Risu would have thought that voice belonged to a new orphan at the Home. “I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner.”

_Then go away now._

Arms still crossed over his chest, Risu chanced a glimpse at the approaching person. It was the owl-masked sorceress in office clothes.

“Can I maybe get you some water?” she asked, ready to remove the large tote bag from her shoulder. Her voice is softer now that Risu is in her view.

“No,” he rasped out.

“Alright, I’m not that good at treating wounds, either. Would it be okay for me to take you to a clinic and get you patched up?” she continued.

“Go away!” Risu whined with wet eyes. He has always been an easy crier, and the other kids in the Rauyim Home laugh at him for that.

He blinked and wiped away the initial tears, and then saw the owl-masked sorceress bow in his direction.

“I’m sorry if I troubled you. I will leave now,” she said.

She looked over her shoulder at him before completely leaving his sight. He can even hear her close the shed door gently.

Risu is left confused by what just happened.

_Why would she just come up to me like that? What could she want from me? I have nothing for her._

He sobs and waits out the flow of tears.

_I have nothing…_

**…**

Komimizuku has no work on this particular Saturday. If she stayed at the house, she would read a book or play an instrument, and her mother will shout for ‘Komimi-chan’ repeatedly and will not stop until she responds.

It would happen at least once every hour. Mother wants her to reach for a rarely-used utensil in the back of the kitchen shelves. Mother wants her to help rearrange the antique crockery in the living room glass cabinets, and after that polish the items because Komimi-chan’s fingers have stained them.

Mother reminds her about that social event that requires her to dress up in the way Mother wants. Stop spending time on silly hobbies, because the most important thing in Komimi-chan’s life is that she marries a powerful husband and guarantees Mother a leisurely old-age experience.

_Life as an obedient little doll fucking stinks._

She sighs. The life of an orphan is not easy either, but at least they don’t have to put up with overbearing, money-obsessed mothers.

**…**

It is almost lunchtime, but Civic Behaviour class ended early and Risu had nothing better to do. While wandering down the halls of the Rauyim Home for Destitute Orphans, he looks out the glass windows every now and then.

On a day like this, there are fewer people walking along the footpath that overlooks the playing field at the usual times. So Risu’s attention is drawn to the small owl-masked figure in the distance, watching the Home from beyond the waist-high carved metal fence.

_That’s her. What is she up to? Is she looking for me again?_

Risu decided to step outside. The Filthy Four are terrorising some other outspoken kid today, so he doesn’t have to worry about them yet.

He crossed the grassy playing field and stopped about ten metres from the fence. He can see that the owl-masked sorceress is wearing a black T-shirt featuring some demonic artist and a plain pair of jeans. Even with her posture straight and expectant, she could not be much taller than he is.

She was about to raise a hand in greeting to Risu before an older woman’s voice shouts: “Komimi-chan!”

The owl-masked sorceress’s posture went rigid. The older woman that ambled up to the owl’s side wears a mask covered in gold- and silver-coloured feathers, and her flabby body is dressed in decent yet expensive-looking clothes, resplendent with jewellery on each wrist.

“There you are! I thought I told you to stay home on the weekends.”

The owl hummed in an affirmative tone, the barest acknowledgment of the woman near her. Risu may or may not have seen profound sadness through the owl mask’s eye-holes.

The bejewelled woman turned her head to see what the owl was staring at, and clicked her tongue in distaste at the sight of Risu.

“You’re not thinking of adopting one of these runts, are you, Komimi-chan? Come on home; I want you to test out a new supplement that can boost your smoke output.”

“My smoke is fine as it is, Mom.” There is defiance in the owl’s tone, as controlled as it is.

“Nonsense! At your current rate, you won’t even qualify for an invitation to En’s Blue Night party!”

The bejewelled woman grasps the owl-masked sorceress by the elbow and pulls her away. Risu cannot be sure of the expression beneath the owl mask, but the wearer’s movements seem sluggish and lifeless as she gets dragged away by someone she calls ‘Mom’.

 _But you have everything. What could you want from_ me _?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sytri is the name of a demon titled Lord of Luxury, and Rauyim is a Demon of Filth.  
> Oof, this is a depressing first chapter. Bug me about this series (or Dorohedoro in general) on my [Tumblr](https://f-identity.tumblr.com), if you would like.


	2. Whose Hoot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: mentioned suicide attempt.  
> This chapter is pretty dialogue-heavy, although I might still be able to say that for most of my other works.

**.....**

Risu did nothing to provoke the Filthy Four, and yet Masuda decided to shoot immobilisation smoke from behind. The other three drag him to the storage shed, learning from last time to keep out of plain sight when beating up the loser.

Takaichi is the first to notice something feels different about the shed. The floor has been swept, and clutter has been neatly arranged by each item’s function.

“Did one of the workers clean the place since we last used it?” Akagi asked aloud.

“No, they all would’ve been too lazy to do this much. Someone else was here,” Kyuuma stated.

The boys lower Risu to lie on the floor, and then they all heard it.

“Hoot-hoot.”

The Filthy Four gave each other uncertain looks in the partial lighting inside the shed.

“Show yourself!”

“We’re not afraid!”

Risu could not speak, but his eyes can widen when he hears another “Hoot-hoot”, this one sounding deeper than the last.

“Hoot-hoot. **Hoot-hoot**.”

Kyuuma and Akagi hide behind and cling to Masuda and Takaichi, whining in fear.

**“HOOT-HOOT.”**

That final demonic timbre made each of the Filthy Four race out of the shed screaming at the top of their lungs.

“What about the human?”

“Leave him! He can go get eaten by the monster!”

On one hand, Risu would not mind getting mauled by a monster; maybe one of his arteries will be nicked and he can see where his smoke veins really are.

On the other, Risu is not afraid because the monster pretty much stopped the bullies from beating him up. And said ‘monster’ steps playfully into view, blowing out a dying puff of smoke which emitted the tiniest “Hoot-hoot.”

The sorceress takes off her owl mask, revealing a soft face framed by longer-than-shoulder dark brown hair. She had round spectacles beneath the mask, and today she wore black slacks instead of a skirt.

“Sorry to have to touch you without your permission,” she said while she helps Risu sit up against a cleaner-than-usual wall, mindful of recent injuries he might have sustained.

She pulls a paper bag out of her office tote, and from that paper bag, she extracts a hand-sized pie and a paper cup whose lid is stained with milk tea.

“You probably think these things are poisoned or drugged, huh?” the sorceress asked.

“ _Now_ I do,” Risu said. The immobilisation magic is wearing off.

The sorceress uses the emptied paper bag as a mat for the food and drink, still not trusting the swept floor. She takes a reasonable bite from the pie, and a slow sip from the lidded cup. She puts them down on the paper mat in front of Risu and takes a few steps back to give him space.

“What do you want from me?”

A few long, quiet breaths pass before the sorceress answers: “This is gonna sound weird, but – I want your happiness.”

 _She’s right. That_ does _sound weird. I don’t have any of that._

“My name is Komimizuku. People call me Komimi-chan,” she introduced herself.

After a short pause, he said: “I’m Risu.”

Komimizuku bows to him. “Pleased to meet you, Risu-kun.”

“Do you have to go somewhere?” he asked.

She looked briefly in the direction of her residence when she answered.

“It’s not urgent. She’ll ask me questions no matter what – not that I’ll always be truthful with her.”

“Then sit down,” he told her.

And she listened. She also removed the office tote from her shoulder; it met the tiled floor with a resounding thud.

_What do adults even carry in huge handbags like those?_

Despite his earlier caution, Risu devours the chicken-and-vegetable pie. When he removed the lid of the paper cup, the milk tea is almost lukewarm, but the drink he pours down his gullet is no less sweet.

“Do you eat and drink good stuff like this every day, Komimi-san?” Risu asks.

Komimizuku smiles briefly. “This ‘good stuff’ is a bit on the cheap side, but I say they’re better than the supplements and recipes my mom makes me eat.”

Risu leaves the slightly crumpled pie tin and empty paper cup on the makeshift mat. Komimizuku moves as if to clean up the mess, but hesitates, looking at Risu as if to ask permission. He waves at her to go ahead.

“Why would you not want to have better food? You can produce smoke, and it’s pretty handy magic, too! Why _won’t_ you want to make your magic better?”

At that last sentence, Komimizuku’s hands jittered. She finishes placing the trash in the paper bag and folding the top.

“Everything is granted to me at a price. Whatever value I can give – has to be worth the effort put into me,” she spoke.

Her expression is so sorrowful that, combined with what she said, Risu stares at her with the space between his near-hairless brows creased.

Komimizuku smooths over her face with an awkward smile. “Ah, sorry, I rambled there. I don’t think an orphan with your worries would be interested in hearing my life story,” she remarked.

Still eyeing the unusual sorceress, Risu shifts his sitting position to be more comfortable. It is a challenge to do so on the tiled floor where the Filthy Four often left him bruised and crying.

“I don’t have anything else to do today than listen to you or go to sleep. And I’m not sleepy right now,” Risu told her.

From her cross-legged position, Komimizuku pulls in her legs and rests her forearms atop her knees.

“I was given life by my mother, so I am indebted to her. She feeds me and clothes me, and pays experienced tutors to educate me.”

Her eyes are not on Risu; she is staring beyond the storage shed’s interior walls.

“I am the second of five sisters. My older sister is now a successful member of sorcerer society. All of my younger sisters are gifted students, so they stay with our father in the city central and go to the best school there.”

 _Sytri Academy?_ Risu wondered, but did not voice it out.

Komimizuku closes her eyes for a moment, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

“As the daughter with the least potential among my sisters, I have been forced to live with my mother. It’s difficult enough for me to find a job that supports my living, so I had to financially depend on Mom.”

There is distaste on her face in saying that word. As she continues speaking, her eyes glisten with hot tears.

“She gives me money, on the condition that I do what she asks of me, in the manner she wants me to. If I’m rude, she scolds me. If I honestly speak my mind, she reminds me how much sacrifice she has undergone to bring me to this world.”

Risu thought about comforting her. He raised a hand, but stopped.

 _She has many things I don’t have, doesn’t she?_ he wondered.

Komimizuku doesn’t seem to notice the movement. She continues: “Everything I do must be monitored to her satisfaction. Any good thing I do must benefit her, or else it is not good at all.”

She pauses again. This time she glances at Risu, and wipes the tears from her face.

“When so much of your life is controlled by someone else, you start to question why you exist at all… What purpose you serve, what your true value is.”

Komimizuku then grins and gestures at herself with a thumb. “So six years ago, I tried to kill myself.”

Risu scrambles back. He doesn’t care if she sees his horrified expression, because that is a very messed-up thing to say – even _more_ so in that merry tone!

“Are you crazy?!” he exclaimed.

She grimaces, and steadily flattens down her expression. “A lot of people wonder that as well…”

Komimizuku waved that aside with a small hand.

“Anyway, it was a failed suicide attempt. I was brought to the hospital and saved on time. When I woke up, my mother was bawling. She was glad I didn’t die, but she was even more upset that I dared to destroy my life. She said I _am_ worth something to her, and she will not let me pass on until she collects my dues. And to her, the most convenient way for it to happen is to get me partnered to a rich and powerful sorcerer. Then she can live off of us.”

Risu’s mouth hangs open, but he can find no words with which to respond to something so… hellish.

_There’s a lot I don’t know about the world. I am a child growing up in an orphanage, after all._

Komimizuku gets up on her feet, dusts her work slacks, and hefts the office tote back on a shoulder.

“I’m sorry you had to listen to that, Risu-kun.” After she puts the fabric owl mask over her face, she continues: “I’ll try to come visit again – hopefully with more food and better stories next time. Take care.”

**…**

That night after dinner, Risu changed into the Rauyim Home’s old-fashioned night robes and got ready for bed. Most of the other orphans take this time to chat among themselves before lights-out.

Risu gazes out the common bedroom window, at the playing field and the fence – at the wide world beyond. Tonight, he uses this time to think about his early childhood years.

He never knew his mother. His father chose to raise him; the two of them lived happily in a suburban terrace house. The man was all playful and loving… at least, until Risu turned 4 years old and still cannot produce a single gram of smoke.

His father left him at the Rauyim House for Destitute Orphans about a month after his fourth birthday. Previously so devoted, the man became a stranger to Risu, and never looked back.

_That’s six years ago, isn’t it?_

The image of Komimizuku’s twisted grin and upbeat gesture flared in Risu’s mind. He shuddered and covered his legs with a blanket.

_What a terrible year that was._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, there’s some artistic speculation with existing character backgrounds. They’re more to fulfil plausible backstories behind this fic.


	3. Feeling Crabby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic depiction of attempted suicide, even in a nightmare. When I don’t write silly shit, I write disturbing shit.

**.....**

_Risu walks down a road that looks almost familiar. He knows this neighbourhood._

_His father’s house._

_He walks past the open gates and through the front door. The exceedingly tall man with spiked dark hair and slit-shaped blue irises does not see the boy enter. That man’s attention is given fully to a stout woman in a mask of gold and silver feathers, her arms bedecked with precious metals and gems._

_“I want an heir who can produce a decent amount of smoke. Sure, this one is pretty, but your price is too high,” he complained._

_Risu treads past the entrance hall to the living room. The woman draped in luxury does not appear to notice him either. She lavishes her attention on the prospective buyer and the ‘product’: Komimizuku, in a blouse and skirt, with glittering chains around her shoulders and chest._

_“Komimi-chan, why don’t you show this nice man how much smoke you can produce? Give him a good show, too!” the woman urges Komimizuku, pulling on one end of the chain._

_Komimizuku sees Risu. “I’m sorry.”_

_The woman jerks harder on the chain connected to her ungrateful daughter. “Who are you apologising to? Show your smoke, now!” the woman hollered._

_Komimizuku smiles and pulls out a knife. The tall man and Risu’s expressions match – twin faces of panic and horror._

_But instead of using the knife on either of the older adults, she swings the bladed edge toward her own neck, above where the chains tie her down._

_“STOP!”_

Risu awoke with his heart thumping. His blanket is rumpled, and his night robe is unevenly drenched in sweat.

He sits up in his bed with knees drawn up to his chest, using his hands to cover his crying eyes.

The other orphans are used to seeing Risu crying at random times of the day. Some have taken to calling him Sprinkler or Waterfall with how frequently he tears up.

But they are not used to their teasing being ignored, or to seeing Risu’s distant gaze, as if he is lamenting a sorrow no other child can comprehend.

**…**

The days and hours pass Risu by. Other than formal classes such as Fundamentals of Magic and Civic Behaviour, Rauyim Home holds self-enrichment activities for the children. This is to help raise the kids into useful members of magic-user society.

What a joke. This society only cares about power and money.

Risu has taken to spending his later afternoon hours pacing along the fence where grown-up sorcerers (many of whom cannot afford brooms or carpets) walk to and from work. When the sun gets too hot, he would seek refuge in the storage shed: now a structure the Filthy Four are afraid to enter, ever again.

On occasion, he would be able to wave at the owl-masked sorceress in office clothes, but she is usually in a hurry. He doesn’t blame her; she is an office worker doing important work stuff. He just… wants to talk to her again. Unlike the children – or even most other adults – she respects his words and his space.

Risu jogs toward the part of the fence where he and Komimizuku have stood and stared at each other before. Her flat shoes allow her to walk fast today, and she has a paper bag and bottle of water to pass to him.

“Good day, Risu-kun. Have you got time to talk today?” she asks.

“I sure do,” he replies.

He walks alongside her to where the fence ends, and leads her into the storage shed that he uses more often than the Rauyim Home workers do. He sometimes eats or studies in this place alone, but he always cleaned up after himself.

It feels oddly poetic how the Filthy Four are scared of a scrubbed and tidy place.

Seated on the floor, Risu opens the paper bag and sniffs at its contents. Komimizuku sits opposite him and takes off her fabric mask.

“There’s one curry pastry and a red bean bun,” Komimizuku says, raising her eyebrows soon after. “Do you need me to check them for poison?”

He smiles wryly at her friendly jab. “I don’t think someone like you will poison me, Komimi-san.”

She snorts, her expression amused, but she seems comfortable here.

“Last time I promised to tell you better stories, right? I’ve got one from this morning.”

Risu bites into the red bean bun first. “What happened?”

Komimizuku extends her head forward slightly. “I saw a crab walking down the road on my way to work this morning.”

“… A crab?”

She nods, her expression bright with amusement.

“Yeah. It was just scuttling toward some grass, minding its own business. I don’t know if it escaped a restaurant or it’s a tourist that just decided to leave the river, but it’s such an entertaining sight.”

Risu finishes the bun and regards the happy-faced sorceress before him. The other orphans would never be able to tell she tried to kill herself at some point in her life.

He joins her giggles at the story and proceeds to bite into the curry pastry. The baked puff crumbles more easily than the pie he had before, but both the flaky crust and curry filling taste far better. It is almost a pity to wash away the taste with bottled water, but he would like his throat to not be dry when he talks next.

“Komimi-san, I hope this is okay – I have to tell you some stories, too,” Risu said.

“Only if you feel like it. You don’t have to force yourself,” she replied.

“I _want_ to,” he insisted, sounding firmer than probably necessary.

Risu told her about his upbringing and the reason his father left him at Rauyim Home. About the awful dream he had the night after he listened to Komimizuku’s personal tale.

He gulped when he ended his recollection. “Now that I’m talking about it, it sure sounds silly, huh,” he commented.

The look on Komimizuku’s face tells him she does not think his words are silly at all.

“I’m thankful that you trust me enough to share your stories, especially those that are sad and scary. It must’ve been painful to recall those memories.”

She then thumped the base of her right hand against her forehead.

“Ah, crap, I feel directly responsible for giving you that unsettling nightmare, so – I’m really sorry for that, Risu-kun.”

“No, that’s okay. It’s not your fault that –” is it okay for him to say this? “– that your mom is a monster.”

**…**

Komimizuku’s eyes are wet again, but she beams at Risu in relief.

_Thank you. It feels like you’re seeing something very few other people notice._

“Oh. Speaking of monsters, the Filthy Four don’t come to this place anymore thanks to you, Komimi-san,” Risu says brightly.

She lets out a short chuckle. “They fear the hoot-hoots _that_ much?”

“Yeah! Sometimes when I notice them giving me the stink-eye, I go _hoot-hoot_ ,” he made the sound with the deepest voice he can manage, “and they immediately huddle up and look away.”

Komimizuku is aware of how unladylike her laugh sounds (her mother would point that out whenever she hears those sounds), but Risu painted such a funny picture, and he is chortling happily at the memory as well.

Once the two are done laughing at the humorous recall, Komimizuku eases her smile into a neutral expression.

“I’m going to ask you something – you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Huh? What is it?”

“Do you get bullied a lot here?”

Risu slumps back against the wall.

“The main kids that bully me are those Filthy Four, but then they’re not the only people who look down on me. Basically all the kids here tease the guy that can’t produce smoke.”

He huddles tighter into himself. His tears are welling up, but he doesn’t wipe his face immediately.

“If I dared to take up space or speak up in class, someone would always boo at me, call me names. ‘Shut up, trash.’ ‘Shut your mouth, human.’ ‘Go back to Hole.’”

Komimizuku scoots up to his side and gently places a hand on his shoulder. He leans closer, and she takes this as permission to rub his back.

“How can I go ‘back’ to a place I’ve never seen before?” Risu speaks, his voice wavering.

Komimizuku continues soothing him, and when his sobs ebb out, she places her hand around his shoulders (which are wider than hers).

“Would you like to see Hole, Risu-kun?” she asks softly.

Risu dries his face with the back of a hand and gawks at her.

“Why would I ever want to go to Hole? I can’t make a door, and I have no magic to practice on humans.” He blinks. “Have _you_ been in Hole?”

She briefly scrunches her face, and then smiles. “I’ve had a few adventures there. Not to practice on humans, of course; I’d much rather use my magic to prank sorcerers.”

The sudden exhale lets her know Risu is thinking about the hoot-hoot monster again. Soon he looks at her, his eyes wide and curious.

“What’s Hole like, Komimi-san? How do the humans live there?” he asks.

Komimizuku withdraws her arm, briefly touching her chin.

“Central Hole is a pretty big city, but not larger than the sorcerer world capital. The place is dull, grimy, and dusty. Every now and then it would rain – water droplets from the sky, loaded with smoke residue – and when that happens, any sorcerer would feel like all their strength has left them.”

Risu is listening intently, his mouth open but not saying anything yet.

“The rain is a minor ache compared to the rising organised movement called the Hole militia. They’ve got suits so that magic smoke can’t be used against them, and they would mob against individuals or simple pairs of sorcerers.”

“That sounds dangerous. You never got caught?” Risu asks. His voice is not panicked, of course, because Komimizuku is sitting right next to him.

She shrugs with her hands turned up.

“I’ve never blown my smoke while around them. The militia normally go after magic-users who look to practice on humans, and that’s how they try to keep Hole safe. But lately they’ve been posting cash rewards for anyone who reports on sorcerers living in their midst. Anyone thinking of going to Hole will have to be extra careful these days.”

“How do you know so much about Hole?” Risu whispers.

“Promise not to tell my mom?”

“I swear I won’t.”

Komimizuku makes a show of peering around the room, and then answers: “I’ve been squirrelling away money every month and converted them to Hole currency. I use some of it to pay rent for an apartment there.”

“What?!” Risu exclaims, and then covers his mouth with both hands.

Komimizuku cackles and relaxes her posture against the storage shed wall.

“The first time I went to Hole was when I ran away from home – I was probably thirteen years old then. I accidentally mentioned to my mom that I went to Hole, and she was _pissed_. She hired a private investigator to follow me around for six months after that, but when she decided it’s no longer worth paying him, I was able to continue those visits.”

She smiles as she replays notable events in her mind’s eye.

“I look at my so-called family, and I look at humans living in Hole… Well, it depends on where you live, but humans are not so bad. Parents and grandparents look after younger folk _without_ expecting to be repaid. Some of the neighbours and even strangers are friendly and kind people who give their time or help freely.”

Komimizuku blinks back tears that arose not from sorrow but gladness.

“This’ll sound strange, but being in Hole feels like breathing fresh air.”

**…**

Komimizuku says so many strange things already, so this statement of hers does not surprise Risu.

Growing up – both in the suburbs and the Rauyim House – Risu heard many things about Hole. Sorcerers at large say Hole is dirty, rotten, and corrupted. These snobs describe humans who live there as aggressive, destructive, and otherwise apathetic.

Magic-users of all ages (except for Komimizuku) compare him to those humans and treat him like trash, presumably the way they would treat humans as well. The owl’s own descriptions are so different from what these people say.

Risu observes Komimizuku, this small-statured sorceress with an odd tendency towards helping out a boy who cannot produce smoke. Odd for wanting him to be happy.

_She’s odd because she is broken by her messed-up history._

“Komimi-san… I know life at your house is really bad, you have a safe place in Hole, and you know how to live there. Why aren’t you living there right now?” he asks.

She tenses up and brings her knees to her chest, crossing her forearms atop her legs.

“I haven’t had a good enough reason to actually move there myself,” she croaks out her answer.

Risu moves to kneel in front of Komimizuku and takes one of her hands.

“Then let me be the reason.”

“Risu…” Komimizuku clears her throat. “You said yourself that you’ve never seen the place. Can you really trust _one_ person’s account of what Hole is like, and just go?”

“You know there’s nothing for me in this world. To the sorcerers, I’m worse than nothing… I just take up space, existing to be hurt by others. By everyone other than you.”

He can feel Komimizuku’s hand tighten over his. There is a fire in her dark eyes, the blaze of a raging spirit limited by a small body and mediocre smoke powers.

“ _You_ told me you want my happiness,” he reminds her. “And if I can’t find happiness here, we should find it elsewhere.”

The fury dims down; the flame is still there, but it is one of conviction. “You’re sure about this?” Komimizuku asks.

Risu nods. “Trust me – I’m sure. Please take me with you to Hole. Let’s live there and make it harder for sorcerers to hurt us.”

Komimizuku moves forward to hug him. His arms are open wide, and they close gently over the owl’s upper body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the really, REALLY slow build. Ai debuts in the next chapter.


	4. Properly Perplexed

.....

Ai leans against the stone railing just past his front door. His dark, narrow eyes are fixated on the apartment room on the same floor but on a building opposite of his. That apartment is part of this same complex; just on a different block.

He had not intended to observe that particular room so closely. A young woman with dark hair lives there; he and his granddad know that much. But when Ai really pays attention, he notices: after she makes one trip out and back into her room, he doesn’t see her again until the next week at least.

She is one of those mysteries that perplex him… mysteries akin to the sorcerer realm.

Is there a possibility that she _is_ a magic-user? Does she have a door in her room which goes to her home realm?

The skies are darkening. Ai returns to the apartment room he resides in. Grandpa has been out peddling for two months, and may be away for just as long or shorter, depending on how business goes.

The falling rain outside blocks out the many sounds of the city. The noise of water hitting roofs and walls fills Ai with emptiness. He is so tired of this dull place.

Ai sinks into his study chair and continues to read Dr Kasukabe’s book: ‘ _Magic-Users And Us_ ’. Ai’s copy has its margins scribbled over with myriad questions dissecting almost every sentence regarding a sorcerer’s use of magic.

If he can get answers to those questions, he will have a shot at leaving this dismal world.

**…**

The Rauyim Home storage shed is, for the past week, increasingly used by someone who does not work for the place.

Risu looks after the items offloaded by Komimizuku: perishable goods in airtight boxes, a backpack full of books on general life subjects, and cheap yet durable clothes for a growing boy of his size. He practically lives here now, finding himself more attentive when reading Komimizuku’s selected books than attending any class at the Home.

The day finally comes when Komimizuku declares that she has taken care of administrative matters in the eve of departure.

“Do you have any paperwork to handle before we go?” she asks Risu.

He frowns, unsure if she was joking.

“I don’t think this Home for Destitute Orphans would care if one child goes missing. But are you sure your mom won’t follow you to Hole, or try to take you back from there?”

She looks in a familiar direction for a few seconds.

“Well, this is a calculated risk, but I’ve done my math.” She takes off her mask and turns to continue talking to Risu. “Hole absolutely disgusts my mom, among many other elite sorcerers. The cost of hiring mercenaries to drag me back from Hole will be greater than anything I can do for her in the future.”

Risu nods. The thought of Komimi-san being taken from him is terrifying, but he has to trust that she knows what she is talking about, what she is doing. Besides, the sorceress has put up with her mother for longer than he was alive.

“That reminds me… if things go bad for us in Hole, we would have to escape to the sorcerer world,” she adds.

“We’ll have to be extra careful there, then,” he agrees, his eyes meeting Komimizuku’s with determination.

He does not want to return to this world anyway. And he has faith in this owl’s wisdom.

Smoke flows out of Komimizuku’s forward-facing right hand, coalescing into a standard-sized magic-user door. Her personal door is a view of green plains on a dark night, bordered by a tree trunk and various sizes of branches and twigs.

**…**

Risu’s eyes widen at the sight of what Komimizuku’s door opens to. His mouth hangs open, revealing sharp, uneven teeth.

“Let’s get this stuff moved,” she told him with a smile, taking the airtight ingredient boxes through first.

Risu helps to lift and pass the items to Komimizuku, who holds the door open with one leg. The bags of clothes are not a problem for him, but he struggles to even lift the backpack full of books.

“How does this thing not tear from all that weight?” he exclaims.

Keeping the door open with her magic, Komimizuku kneels down and picks up the backpack, first by the handle, and then one strap after another.

“When you don’t normally pick up heavy stuff, it’s better to support the weight from your legs,” she says.

Risu gives her an incredulous stare. She lets out a soft laugh, shakes her head, and looks around them.

“May we leave our regrets behind us.”

“Yeah. Good riddance.”

They step past the threshold of the magical door together. Once they both emerge on the other side, Komimizuku closes her door and lets it fade into smoke.

While she puts down the backpack and takes her shoes to the rack by the front door, Risu is already taking in the new place with excitement.

_Unpacking our shit and cleaning the floor will have to wait_ , she decides.

By the time she moves the boxes and bags out of the way, Risu has explored the dining lounge, the guest bathroom, the kitchen and laundry area, and the two bedrooms. The balcony in particular holds his attention for longer.

“There are so many plants here,” he remarks.

“Food can be hard to come by in Central Hole, so I grow some of my own vegetables and herbs,” Komimizuku explains.

“Can we get a cactus?”

As much as she wanted to ask why Risu wants a cactus, the eagerness is so palpable on his face that she decides not to pry further.

“Alright, but you’ll have to choose which cactus to get, because I don’t know all the types.”

“No problem!”

Komimizuku occasionally looks out the windows at the sky, hoping it would not rain on her and Risu’s first day of living in Hole for good. So far, there are few grey clouds in sight, and at this altitude, there is a near-constant breeze that keeps the balcony vines and leaves dancing.

Risu apologised when he noticed the mess he tracked, but she forgives him. Unlike her mother, she will not scold someone for not knowing how things ‘should be done’. And speaking of knowing things…

“Let’s take a break and sit down for a bit,” Komimizuku says.

She pulls up a dining chair, and Risu follows her lead, sitting opposite her.

“I’ve told you before that the money used here in Hole, the yen, is different from the Nik used in the sorcerer world. Besides money, most names in Hole also sound different from those of magic-users.”

“Do I get a cool new name?” Risu asks.

“Well, that is if you want one. I honestly think ‘Risu’ is a passable name for a human here.”

“Oh.”

Her eyes were lowered to the table surface, so she did not know whether he was disappointed or just accepting it.

“On the other hand, ‘Komimizuku’ is a mouthful, and a rather obvious sorcerer name.” She looks up at Risu again. “In my previous trips to Hole, I’ve been calling myself ‘Kamiz’; it means ‘Thursday’ in a few languages the demons can speak.”

**…**

Risu supposes he can live with this name given to him at birth. Kamiz, on the other hand, has too often had her former name thrown around without care or thought. This new name suits her: short, yet strong.

“Kamiz-neesan,” he tests out the name.

Kamiz has looked out for Risu more in the past few weeks than Rauyim Home ever has in its many years. It feels natural to call her ‘big sister’.

She smiles and blinks back tears.

Risu reaches across the table for Kamiz’s hands, giving her the comfort and assurance that she is worthy of the title.

“Let’s unpack and have dinner, little brother,” she says. Her voice wavers, but the way she moves for the rest of the day is filled with confidence.

The backpack of books rests against the study desk, the perishables are in their proper storage areas, and the clothes and towels are sorted out – all in the span of an hour.

Kamiz’s apartment has two bedrooms, but Risu feels he would be more comfortable if he sleeps in the same room as her. So she carries the floor mattress from the guest bedroom (he helps, of course) and places it in the other corner of the larger bedroom that has its own bathroom.

After getting cleaned up and eating a simple dinner of chicken slice sandwiches, the two adoptive siblings brush their teeth and turn in for bed.

Risu insisted that Kamiz did not need to keep the bathroom light on and the door open while the apartment’s other lights are out. (He is a big boy who can sleep in total darkness.)

“It’s more for me. I can’t read without minimal light,” she explained. Because of course she reads or writes before sleeping.

Risu finds a comfortable position on his mattress, covered in a thick-enough blanket. From the bathroom’s fractional light, he can see Kamiz’s exhausted form: restless limbs creasing her blanket, a book on vegetables falling out of her right hand, and dark hair fanning out over her pillow.

He commits this image to his memory and closes his eyes.

_When I wake tomorrow, I will still be here, with Kamiz-neesan. The sorcerer’s world is a nightmare we won’t face again, hopefully, in a long time._

**…**

Kasukabe’s Medical Treatment and Diagnosis clinic is closed for the day. Normally this would disappoint Ai because he finds peace in the friendly doctor’s research laboratory. However, Dr Kasukabe has informed beforehand that he will bring Ai some books from his collection in the mansion.

Any knowledge on sorcerers that can be pooled together… anything is good when he feels he lacks everything.

“I’m home.”

Ai’s grandfather arrives at the doorstep. Ai barely pays attention to the old man’s grumbles about the tediousness of work and his rude competitors.

“So, what have you been doing?” Mr Coleman asks his grandson.

“Reading, mostly,” Ai replies.

When he hears Grandpa approaching the front door, however, he has abandoned the book that Grandpa calls his ‘latest obsession’.

His attention is out the window, at the apartment room whose occupant’s habits mystify him. Lately, he has seen her leaving the room in the morning and returning in the evening. More often than not, she is greeted by a boy of her height. Ai is not sure if the boy is related to her; some strands of his hair are dark, but the rest are bright blond.

“Do you know the people who live across from us? On the same floor, directly facing us, but on the other block,” Ai asks.

Grandpa has taken off his hat and coat, kicking back on the worn couch with a glass of refrigerated water in hand.

“People? I don’t remember if there are _people_ , but there is that young woman with dark hair.”

_Yeah, that’s her._

“I don’t know her name, but I know what she buys whenever I set up shop down the street.” Grandpa takes two glugs of cold water and clears his throat. “She would spend almost an hour selecting pens, pencils, paper, and blank books. Then she ends up buying a quarter of the stationery I have for sale.”

Ai blinks. He cannot see through the opaque curtains of the apartment across the complex, but it is mid-evening, and the lights there are on.

“You’re 14 years old now, aren’t you, Ai? You can visit her by yourself while I’m gone,” Grandpa says. He pauses, and then Ai can hear him shift in the couch. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of her!”

Ai lets the comment wash over him like dirty rainwater.

_I’m more afraid of scaring her away._

He pays attention to what the woman is like. Who the heck buys stacks of books and pens once every few months? What does she do with them… what does she _write_ in them?

_Until I ask her myself, it feels like I’m only seeing what I want to see._

If she is a magic-user and she writes a lot… Ai wishes to get to know her more and more. And when he meets and asks her, he wants to make a good first impression.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Teaser: the title for the next chapter is ‘Don’t Leave Me Here’.


	5. Don't Leave Me Here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days, I’ll write about Kawajiri/Asu meeting Fukurou/Kamiz in canon. They are both ‘older sibling’ characters who care about Risu.

**.....**

Risu can get used to the relative quiet of Kamiz’s room here in Hole. No more is he surrounded by bullies or sorcerers who treat him as an inferior being. He is now in the frequent company of someone who cares dearly about him.

Kamiz has supported her own livelihood in Hole by working at Pulley Tray, a couple-owned business whose activities include food transport from the fringe farms, fresh produce wholesaling, and grocery sales and delivery. Now that she is staying for good, Zaller and Syvia are happy to grant her the administration and bookkeeping position.

Of course, while Kamiz-neesan is out at work, Risu has free time to do what he wants at home. It’s always lonely and boring for him when Kamiz is away, but he never caves into the temptation of going out unsupervised. After everything she has been through, he does not want to cause her trouble.

So what _is_ there to do in the apartment room?

Risu gets up from reading the labels of planter boxes at the balcony. In the room’s common area there is a shelf lined with books, and an unholy pile of stationeries and half-filled books on the study desk.

A corner adjacent to the balcony is home to what Kamiz calls an alto sax and a bass guitar. Risu doesn’t know how to play those instruments.

The guest bedroom is now empty except for a few exercise mats, a pair of adjustable dumbbells, and a huge and heavy punching bag hanging from a stand. Risu wonders if he can try to train here.

_Kamiz-neesan is the brains of this family. I can feel myself growing taller, so I should work harder to be the brawns._

Risu tests the weight of the punching bag. Once he is certain that it won’t swing wildly when hit, he begins balling up his fists and punching the bag.

About five minutes in, the middle joints of his fingers are starting to hurt. He begins to wonder if he is doing this correctly.

“I’m home – Risu?” Kamiz’s voice calls from the door.

Oops. Risu peeks out from the guest bedroom.

“Welcome home, sis,” he meekly greets her.

Kamiz puts down her office tote and paper bag of groceries on the dining table, making her way to her makeshift training room.

“Were you using the punching bag?”

Risu decides he might as well tell the truth.

“Yeah… are you mad that I used it without your permission?” he asks.

Kamiz inspects his hands; the skin over his knuckles is red with friction from the impact.

“No, I’m not mad,” she answers. “I should’ve realised I was just leaving you here at home with nothing to do, without even knowing what you’d _like_ to do.”

Risu follows Kamiz to help with sorting and putting away groceries.

“I want to get stronger so I can protect us,” he tells her.

She smiles and nods while they fill the fridge, freezer, and pantry accordingly.

“I figured as much. It’s always good to know how to defend yourself, but you need to stay safe during training as well.”

With basic chores done, Kamiz hurries to change her upper clothes. She emerges from the main bathroom, hair tied in a bun, wearing a sleeveless top while her jeans remain.

“There’s no bleeding or serious sores on your hands, are there?” Kamiz asks.

Risu curls and spreads out his fingers. “Not really,” he guesses.

Kamiz nods. “Good.” She goes to her bookshelf first. “Gymnastics mini-handbook, transcript of underground fights… where’s that physical self-defence book? Backpack.”

 _That last book alone can act as a shield,_ Risu thought, eyeing the sharp corners of the large picture book’s hard cover.

He helps Kamiz carry the books along to the training room, waiting patiently when she fishes two rolls of white cloth out of a drawer.

“These are training wraps. You’ll have to use my gross, sweaty ones for now,” she says as she helps put them on Risu’s hands.

For the rest of the evening – that is, until they have to prepare dinner – Kamiz guides Risu on safety during self-training, as well as basic fighting techniques. It is from her that he learns to use not just his fists and feet, but also elbows, knees, and base of palm.

On a different, non-work day, Risu (now with his own knuckle wraps) watches Kamiz train by herself. Her glasses are off, there is heavy music playing on the radio, and at one point she rained hell on the punching bag.

It’s not hard to guess who she was thinking about when she is releasing her anger like this.

“When do I get to spar with you?” he asks when she wipes her face and neck with a small orange towel.

Part of him feared she would baby him and say he isn’t ready yet. Instead, she says: “After we get a training mat for this room. And when that’s done, we can look at the techniques required from basic grades to advanced. Unless of course you’re more interested in street-worthy fights…”

Then she gets into a ramble on how necessary it is to fight dirty in real life, and how most ‘martial arts’ books waste pages talking about ‘honour’ and ‘spirit’ which are impractical for actual self-defence.

Risu smiles. His older sister is such a nerd, but at the same time, she is pretty cool.

**…**

Two weeks into life in Hole (after several outings together), Risu gets his own keys to the apartment and is trusted with going around the city by himself.

There are sights to see here and there, but those tend to be gruesome, and Risu has promised to stay away from danger.

About a month after that, Risu is bored of being in the apartment room; reading and training are becoming monotonous. Additionally, even when he’s not at home, he gets the feeling he was being watched, but he can never see who was following him.

For safety and anti-boredom purposes, one day Kamiz brought Risu along to Pulley Tray’s main office, asking her main supervisor Syvia if it was okay for her little brother to work alongside her.

“I don’t see why not. You two are family, after all,” Syvia said, to Kamiz’s relief and Risu’s delight.

During Risu’s learning weeks, Syvia has recommended that Risu take over the menial aspects of what Kamiz usually does. Kamiz reluctantly agrees to this.

“Don’t worry, sis, I already know you can lift heavy loads, like backpacks full of books.”

Kamiz rolled her eyes at Risu’s words, but smiled at him regardless.

Bringing Risu to work had been a good idea. He is not just growing healthy and strong by regularly lifting, moving, and carrying goods. Being around humans – especially with Kamiz present – builds his self-esteem. One afternoon, he managed to hold fifteen minutes of casual conversation with Syvia and two other workers.

Kamiz pretended to be absorbed in matching a sales journal to its ledger at the time, but she was paying attention. And when the others left, Risu treaded in a comically sneaky way toward her desk.

He had been growing taller, so he has to stoop a little farther to speak into a seated Kamiz’s ear.

“Are you proud of me, sis?”

She is sure he is getting used to that long-suffering but loving wry smile.

“Hell yeah.”

Another good reason for Risu to stay near Kamiz during work hours: if he finds himself outdoors and it rains, Kamiz will be able to support him. He has not been caught alone and weak in the rain yet. Syvia already knows that Kamiz is sensitive to Hole’s rain, and so Risu’s similar weakness is not a surprise to her.

“Zaller is in charge of transport, and his cousins live in the fringe where the farms are. They all agree that the rain in the fringe is a lot less suffocating than in the city,” Syvia remarked.

“Is it because the city is more polluted by smoke residue when sorcerers come to practice?” Kamiz wondered.

She could see Risu keep his mouth shut; he usually does when she joins in humans’ chats involving magic-users.

Syvia let out a short laugh.

“I can’t imagine sorcerers travelling to the fringes just to practice on farming folk. The city is where there are the most practice subjects, so this is where sorcerers appear in the first place.”

Kamiz nodded. _That’s an impeccably logical explanation Risu and I can use when someone else wonders why we’re weak to the city rain._

Risu gave her a wide-eyed stare that says “Are you seriously being a nerd about this right now?”

“Hey kid, are you gonna select a cactus or what?”

He gasped. “You remembered? I almost forgot about that!”

“I may remember things at the most inconvenient times – but the point is: I remember.”

Between the adoptive siblings, Kamiz has the last cackle today.

**…**

Ai has spent his non-working hours trying to observe the young woman and the strange boy. He has never seen either of them use magic, even when the Hole militia are nowhere in sight. Of course, if they truly are humans, they would have no business using magic at all.

_I am responsible for determining whether I am pinning false hopes on the siblings or whether I am right._

It may just be his imagination, but Dr Kasukabe is perfectly fine with Ai spending more time away from the dark research labs of his clinic. He wonders if the doctor would be happier if Ai gave up on his quest to become a magic-user.

Then again, Dr Kasukabe seems jolly enough with regard to most things that do no harm.

Ai managed to follow the boy on several occasions. Each time, the boy grows less oblivious, but then Ai is just too good at melting into the background. Into the city he hates so much.

That is going to change once he has magic, of course.

In time, the boy joins the woman he calls ‘big sis’ at work. This makes Ai’s investigative pastime all the more difficult, for various reasons.

First: people at the Pulley Tray are going to notice him being nearby when certain people show up for work.

Second: those work hours often clash with his clinic work hours.

Third: as much as Ai hates to admit it, Grandpa was right about the woman intimidating him. Her young face and small stature are at odds with the vitriol she presented to the landlord when he tried to take advantage of her and her brother’s kind nature.

As the months pass, Ai begins to think he has no chance of learning more about the two – at least, not without simply going up to their door and confronting them. The scenario in his mind keeps playing out the same way: the two will panic, and the older sister opens a door for her brother and herself to jump through. Or maybe one of them will transform Ai into something they can hide for as long as they live.

_And I’ll ruin the only chance I have of befriending live magic-users._

He stands in the pouring rain, leaning against the outer wall of the apartment complex. The residual smoke particles should have permeated his skin the way rainwater does… but why is nothing happening?

“We’re almost there, Risu. Don’t drop your cacti now!”

“How are you able to haul shopping bags in this weather?”

“You get used to it when you’re older.”

There she is: the person who seems to have an answer to everything. Ai’s eyes widen. Is there some deity out there granting his unwitting prayer?

Both woman and boy are wearing raincoats, and the woman is holding one umbrella to cover them.

Ai finds his feet moving of their own accord, taking him forward to offer those siblings aid.

“Can I help you two?” he asks. He keeps pace with their urgency to find shelter.

“Aren’t you kinda drenched yourself? Take the umbrella,” the woman says, and moves to shield her brother from the heavy rain.

But there was no need to. Ai holds the umbrella over the siblings.

“It’s no problem,” he states. He is used to being soaked.

Once they are in the complex, Ai helps close the umbrella and shake raindrops off of it. Without the rain to obscure his view, he can see the pained resolve on the siblings’ faces and in their movements.

He quickly opens doors for them to pass through, and presses the elevator call button before they even arrive in front of those doors.

“Which floor do you live on?” Ai asks the two.

The woman tells him. He nods; he already knows, but it’s better not to make her more suspicious. The boy is jumpy enough around Ai as he is.

He holds the elevator doors open for the siblings to exit first, and then follows the two from a polite distance. At the door he has seen often enough, the woman takes out keys to unlock it and let her brother inside.

“Thanks, you’ve helped us out quite a bit,” she says with a drained but sincere smile.

“It’s no problem…”

“Is your home far from here? You could wait out the rain with us.”

_An invitation!_

Ai hesitates. Might as well tell some truths, since lying takes more effort.

“Not really. I live on the other block of the apartment,” he explains.

“Oh, so you’re a neighbour. Come on in, then!”

Ai steps past the threshold and lets the main door close behind him, but does not step into the room yet. It would be bad to make a mess of his hospitable host’s dwelling.

The siblings take off their raincoats, and the woman hangs them to dry in the laundry area. The boy puts his cacti down at a corner with two black cases, almost collapsing himself.

The woman pulls a towel out of one shopping bag and hands it to Ai.

“Dry yourself off with this. I was going to wash it anyway.”

“Thank you…”

**…**

Something about that sombre-faced boy in black has set Risu on edge ever since he saw him at the apartment complex entrance.

Unfortunately for Risu, the effects of Hole’s rain have wiped him out to the point that he has to lie down across the three-seater couch. He could not even help Kamiz-neesan put away the spoils of their weekend shopping trip, let alone keep an eye on that boy. His cacti are near the instruments. Most of the items are still in bags, but Kamiz has put those out of sight and gone to prepare tea for the guest.

“My name is Kamiz, and that’s my younger brother Risu,” he hears Kamiz make the introductions.

He weakly hums in affirmation.

“I’m Ai. Ai Coleman,” the boy announces.

“Pleased to meet you, Ai-kun.” Risu can just picture Kamiz’s polite nod.

He rolls onto his stomach, propping up his upper body with his elbows. That Ai boy is still wearing his cap indoors, the forward-facing bill shading his eyes.

 _You think we can’t see you looking around at this room, huh? At the instruments and cacti, at the bookshelves and desk?_ I’m _watching you!_

“I really wish we could’ve met under better circumstances. My brother and I are sensitive to the particles in the rain; we don’t get as much on the farms at the fringe,” Kamiz gives the customary statement for why she and Risu are weakened by the rain.

Ai sips his tea and looks up at Kamiz, at Risu, and back at Kamiz. While his mouth is closed, he takes and releases a few deep breaths, as if to prepare himself for something.

“Are you two magic-users?”

Kamiz roughly sets down her own mug and places her body between Risu and Ai. Her left hand is aimed beside the instrument corner.

“How many people did you tell about us? Did you contact the militia?” Risu cannot see her face, but her voice is low and hostile.

“I wouldn’t do that! Please don’t leave me here!!” Ai cries out.

That later sentence sent chills down Risu’s spine.

He gets up from the couch and stands next to his sister. The alarm in her face remains and she still keeps Risu behind her, but she has lowered her left hand.

Ai slowly, carefully rises from the dining chair and moves to kneel down facing Kamiz and Risu.

“You were about to make a door, weren’t you? I – want you to take me through to the world beyond, if you can,” he requests.

Risu’s brows shoot up at the sight of Ai lowering his forehead to the floor.

“I would do anything to become a sorcerer.” There is desperation in Ai’s voice, and no shame in his admission of it.

Risu’s body feels easier to move, and Kamiz seems to relax more – although that might have to do more with the receding rain. If Risu were his sister, he would still be unsure what to do with this human who wishes to be a sorcerer.

“I guess that since we’re practically neighbours, we could try to become friends,” Kamiz remarks, shrugging with her palms turned up. “How old are you, Ai? Risu is 10 going 11, and I’m 20 years old.”

Ai re-rights his body and looks up at the siblings.

“I’m 14…” He blinks at them. “You could’ve attacked me easily just now. Why didn’t you?”

Kamiz gestures at Ai to get up and go back to his dining chair. Risu takes his place next to Kamiz, his cooling mug of tea yet to be touched.

“My magic ain’t for transformation or combat. As for Risu, neither of us know what his magic is, because he can’t produce smoke. To other sorcerers, he’s as good as human.”

There is fire in Kamiz’s calm, instructive voice.

“The two of us have been victimised far more by other sorcerers and their world than by humans. Used for money and favours, used as a practice target.” Kamiz pointed to herself, and then at Risu. “Then again, after everything we’ve survived so far, we don’t want our lives to be ended by humans.”

Risu nods in support of Kamiz’s words. Ai’s usually-narrow eyes are wider now, and he seems to struggle to find what words to say next.

**…**

Magic-users coming to Hole to escape other magic-users. Magic-users living like humans because they cannot produce smoke, or their smoke power is not valuable.

Just when he thinks he is making progress, the gulf between him and these siblings grows like a deepening knife wound. His views are too different from theirs; he has to find common ground before time runs out.

His voice comes out croaky when he speaks next.

“I hope life in Hole has treated you better.” He pauses to swallow. “My granddad is a peddler and he sets up shop somewhere outside, before going far away. He doesn’t know you by name, Kamiz-san, but he knows you buy a lot of stationeries at a time.”

“Oneesan is a compulsive book and pen shopper,” Risu states, his tone sneaky.

Kamiz gently elbows Risu, and he playfully shoulders her in turn. Ai finds a smile starting on his face at this sight.

“How many books do you go through in a matter of months?” Ai continues.

Kamiz lightly steps toward a study desk piled with books in various states of disarray.

“I like to keep a stockpile for whenever I have a new set of things to write. These days, I empty out pens much faster,” she replies.

Ai’s attention moves from the desk to the nearby bookshelf. He has to keep from salivating at the titles displayed on the published volumes’ spines.

_Magic, biology, and magic-user biology!_

One humble-looking tome, however, caught his attention.

“ _‘Magic-Users And Us’_? You’ve also read Doctor Kasukabe’s book?!” Ai asks, turning to Kamiz.

“I wouldn’t say I’ve _read_ it. I started but haven’t finished my project of filling in the knowledge gaps,” she replies with that unfittingly laid-back shrug of hers.

_Do you want to meet Dr Kasukabe? I work for him, but that’s not why I’m here to see you. I haven’t told him about you, of course, but I’m sure he’d love to meet you and see what makes you tick. Not in a dirty way, I swear!_

Those words swim in Ai’s head, but he does not speak them aloud.

“Can I bring along my copy the next time I see you? I am very interested in this project,” he says instead. The look on his face must match his words.

Kamiz looks to Risu, who is finishing his mug of tea.

“Check that out, sis. He’s a nerd, just like you,” he teases, imitating her ‘serious knowledge’ face.

“Don’t make me hoot-hoot at you,” Kamiz warns.

There goes that sibling banter again. Ai gets the feeling there are inside jokes he has yet to unravel.

“So… when can I come back and visit?” Ai asks Kamiz.

“Hmm, tomorrow is also a non-work day for us. But if you’re busy, you can usually drop by for dinner. You said you live just on the other block, right?”

“Yeah.”

On his way out, Ai thanks Kamiz and Risu for their hospitality and trusting him. Kamiz thanks him for not ratting them out to the Militia, and for tolerating their presence.

 _Tolerate, huh?_ Ai wondered. _I think I would rather treasure._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ai should be glad he didn’t open with “Hey, are you a magic-user? Because you are bewitching me right now.”  
> Of all the lines my muse could think up, that somehow lit up in my brain.


	6. Brighter Than You Look

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for suicide mentions. Ai is unlocking tragic backstories.

**.....**

The sky over Hole steadily clears, and the city central is bathed in the pale orange of a receding afternoon.

Risu places the pots of his newly-acquired cacti on a higher shelf at the outdoor balcony. He frowns at the water-collecting contraption hanging on an outer railing, but he isn’t curious enough to ask Kamiz what that thing does yet.

He closes the balcony sliding door behind him and draws the curtains shut. Kamiz has sorted out the other spoils of their shopping trip: towels, shoes, and shower gel.

“Are you sure we should let that Ai guy keep seeing us?” he asks.

Kamiz fixed her hair and is now sitting at her instrument corner. Today she decides to play the bass guitar.

“What, does he make you worry, Risu?”

“He could be tricking us,” Risu says.

_(“Please don’t leave me here!!”)_

He crosses his arms and casts his eyes down. What is haunting him so much about that sentence? The way Ai said it?

 _Or was it because it reminded me of something painful… something that_ I _had experienced myself? No, I don’t want to think about it…_

Kamiz plays for about eight measures, and stops. She raised one dark eyebrow. “What about me, huh? I thought I’d be even more suspicious since I’m older,” she states.

“That’s – well…” Risu cannot even imagine Kamiz betraying him.

She plays a non-serious line of notes on the instrument. The expression on her face is gentle as she rests her hands and continues speaking.

“The sorcerer world may have warped us, but we mustn’t automatically shut out strangers.” ‘Strangers’ once included Kamiz herself, in relation to Risu.

She pushes her spectacles up self-consciously.

“It took years for me to realise that strangers and barely-connected peers can be kinder to me than Mom had ever been. Heck, _she_ was the one who filled my head with horrors that can happen when talking to strangers, in the first place.”

Risu nods. Ever since she took on her Kamiz persona, she rarely spoke of that maternal monster anymore. The fact that Kamiz-neesan brings this up must mean it matters to her that Risu is not reactively distrustful of Ai.

She glances in the direction of the other apartment block, and smiles at Risu.

“Besides, he’s a boy just a little older than you. Wouldn’t you like to make more friends, especially kids around your own age?”

“Me – friends? With _that_ creepy geek?” Risu exclaims.

Kamiz holds up her right index finger and fires out smoke the size of a drink can. The small cloud of smoke emitted a low-pitched “HOOT-HOOT” before it fades away.

“You’re saying someone who came up with that noise _isn’t_ a creepy geek?”

Risu chortles and shakes his head. “Alright, I get it.”

After a few more incomplete songs, Kamiz puts away her instrument and sets about making dinner. Tonight they are having roast beef slices with corn, carrot, and broccoli.

Risu arranges the cutlery and plates on the dining table, quiet with his mind elsewhere. On the inside, he is anxious about mingling with a human who is obsessed with magic-users. But then Kamiz seems to put her trust in Ai.

Maybe Risu doesn’t need to also trust Ai right away, but he certainly has faith in Kamiz’s judgment. In the meantime, it won’t hurt to stay wary, and get stronger and smarter.

**…**

The next time Ai drops by the siblings’ apartment is around dinnertime on a workday. Pastry dough is difficult to make in Hole’s humid climate, but Kamiz tries anyway. The savoury quail stew has been prepared, and all she needs is for the crust to hold up.

While the pies are baking, the three youngsters sit together at the dining table. Kamiz passes a partly-filled notepad to Ai.

“I jotted down some basic information about the sorcerer world and its magic-using inhabitants in general. I tried to be as unbiased as possible,” she says with good cheer.

Risu pretends to be staring into space, but she knows he is paying attention to the interactions with the guy who doesn’t take his hat off indoors.

Ai scans through the notepad, his mouth softly open.

“Smoke organs and veins, average powers, value of smoke…” he looks up at Kamiz. “This is much more than I previously knew. Thank you.”

“It’s a basic overview,” Kamiz replies, glancing to one side. “You can keep the notepad and add your own notes.”

Ai nods. Somehow he is able to read her tiny handwriting.

Risu wiggles his brows at Kamiz, who silently sticks out her tongue in response.

A buttery aroma is emanating from the oven. Maybe today’s pie attempt won’t be a disaster after all.

“‘… the mediocre smoke output of a tiny owl with sound-replication magic’ – is this you referring to yourself as an owl, Kamiz-san?” Ai asks.

“That, I am. I had an owl mask back in the sorcerer world,” Kamiz replies simply.

Ai straightens up and gives her his full attention. “Can you show me how you use magic?” he asks.

Kamiz has decided on doing so, but not yet on what sound to play. Other than near-perfect replication, she is also able to construct sounds from imagination.

She maintains an almost-straight face while conjuring a cloud of plate-sized smoke. From that plume, the three of them can hear Ai’s gloomy voice singing a line from a song Kamiz has recently heard.

_“Two – mi-nutes – to miiiiidniiiight~”_

Risu claps softly in appreciation of the performance, smiling cutely as usual. Ai, meanwhile, stands up from his chair and takes off his cap. He is staring at Kamiz so intently that she just shrugs and laughs it off.

“Yeah, this is like a typical short joke. I’m not like the better casters who can record entire songs and pack their dense smoke in a glass boom-box,” she explains.

“So you can store your smoke for later use, in glass containers,” Ai states his understanding. He sits back down and flips through the notepad, presumably to find Kamiz’s notes on the matter.

“Sis? The pies?” Risu reminds her.

“Augh, damn it! Thanks bro.”

**…**

Luckily for the three, the pie crusts have been cooked to splendid quality. The savoury filling is also one of the most flavourful things Ai has ever tasted. By the end of dinnertime, he has emptied his plate whereas Kamiz and Risu have a third and a quarter of pie remaining, respectively.

“What are you, some kind of competitive eater?” Risu asks Ai.

“Only if Kamiz-san is a competitive baker,” he replies, covering his mouth with one hand. In the back of his mind, he entertains the idea of burping out magic smoke. Speaking of which…

“Kamiz-san, you can store your smoke for later use when you need the sound, right?”

“I wouldn’t say I _need_ copied or synthetic sounds most of the time, so I barely do it anyway,” she says.

Ai leans forward, bringing his head closer toward the siblings.

“The Hole militia and the callers who support them tend to look for smoke trails in order to find sorcerers. I worry if they can track the smoke to your hands after you recently cast them.”

Kamiz rubs the back of her neck with one hand. “I try not to use magic in public in the first place.”

“Those assholes don’t care if you can’t use magic at all. The moment they see your blood…”

Ai did not finish his sentence. He raises his eyes again to regard the two sorcerers sitting across from him.

“You don’t have to wait until they’re upon you for you to act. I’ll even bring you the glass bottles. Fill them with sounds that would attract the militia’s attention. Both of you carry a few, and if there are humans who suspect you, get out of their sight and throw a bottle so it explodes in a different direction.”

He takes a few moments to catch his breath; in the meantime, he observes his kind hosts. Kamiz really does look owlish with the rounded spectacle frames over her studious eyes. Risu is quiet, his face serious, yet absent of enmity.

“You know, you’re a lot brighter than you look, Ai-kun.”

 _What the hell was_ that _supposed to mean?!_ Ai wanted to blurt out, but Kamiz’s teasing words are followed by an approving smile.

“We’ll take you up on your offer of glass bottles. In the meantime, wanna brainstorm for weird or irresistible noises?” Kamiz turns from Ai to Risu.

“I’ve imagined luring the Filthy Four here to Hole so they’d get in trouble with the militia. But I’ll settle for watching those murderous banana-suited people running after voices of the Four,” Risu answers.

The two must have seen Ai blink in confusion. Not about how Risu describes the militia’s anti-smoke gear, of course.

“Are you okay with listening to the origins of two sorcerers who moved to Hole to escape other sorcerers?” Kamiz asks Ai.

He nods firmly. “Go ahead – I have all night.”

Kamiz prepares warm water with honey and lemon, enough for more than three servings. Risu looks sleepy, but since he wants to accompany Kamiz recounting the past, he remains in his seat and sometimes leans against her shoulder.

Kamiz regales Ai with the tale of her life as Komimizuku, about how her mother manipulated her and used her as a tool, livestock, and a servant all at once. About Komimi-chan’s attempt to end her own life, and exactly what value her mother saw in that life.

She continues on to tell the story of Risu being abandoned by his father; of the bullying, abuse, and condescension faced at Rauyim Home for Destitute Orphans. And when she recalls her first few days of getting to know Risu, Ai can see the large boy smiling even though his eyes are closed.

Kamiz’s eyes brim with tears several times when telling Ai the stories. However, she looks happier and breathes more easily when she talks about living in Hole with Risu.

The thought of Kamiz being driven to suicide by her own mother? That image froze Ai down to the veins.

The fact that Risu was born a sorcerer but got abandoned by his own father to be raised badly at the orphanage? That made Ai want to stab some people.

Kamiz stifles a yawn and swirls her honey lemon drink before sipping it.

“So – you’ve now heard how the powerful magic-users treat us, which is more or less as bad as how they treat humans. Do you still want to become a sorcerer and live in their world?” she asks Ai.

He had an answer prepared beforehand, but the adoptive siblings’ harrowing stories have thrown him off.

 _We people in Hole… we’re all their prey. I hate that. I can’t find a reason to live in this city._ At least, that was his original answer.

Kamiz can make some amount of smoke to create an inter-realm door, and that allowed her and Risu to retreat to Hole. There may be tens – no, hundreds and thousands of sorcerers – who die, kill themselves, or live in daily hell because their world thrives on such inequality and suffering.

“I don’t doubt the harsh realities you have lived,” Ai tells Kamiz, nodding at Risu as well. “But you two have been in both worlds, whereas I am stuck in this one. I’d rather experience the agony of the sorcerer world myself, and then make my decision.”

Ai must have paid enough attention to know when Kamiz is going to smile or frown. This time, he can see her easy-going hands-up shrug from a distance away.

“Well, from one nerd to another, I’ll say: I won’t deter you. It’s good to be objective and clear-headed.”

The late hour is wearing them all out. Kamiz sees to Ai’s exit, wishing him “Good night, and take care.”

Navigating the buildings with his cap back on, Ai can just picture her massaging dear Risu’s neck and upper back before setting him down in his futon.

He envies magic-users again. This time it’s not those in general for their powers, but specific ones for the strong ties they forged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even in this alternate continuity, Ai acts as a protective bodyguard (and a plans-making boi).  
> I was editing this chapter before bed, so I hope it turned out fine.


	7. Pulling Teeth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW perhaps for display of panic attack. Also blood and dental pain.  
> Every now and then I keep in mind that Kamiz is 153cm at most, and the wiki says Ai is 171cm tall. I'd like to think Risu is tall for a 10-year-old, and he is very quickly surpassing Kamiz's height.

**.....**

Part of Ai felt wrong to hide Kamiz’s notepad of vital sorcerer information from Dr Kasukabe. But then, revealing the knowledge to the doctor means he would have to tell him about the siblings.

Kamiz and Risu deserve to know about Kasukabe first, including what the doctor does in his spare time (which Ai used to do more of, before meeting the duo).

He peruses the clipboard scribbled with patients’ symptoms and ailments, and peeks at the notepad again. Some magics have a time limit, whereas others can last longer and affect the lives of a smoke-affected subject. The main ways of reversing the latter type are: kill the sorcerer who cast the magic; use a complicated dispelling procedure that involves rare ingredients; or apply healing smoke.

_Healing smoke, huh? That’s a great magic to have,_ Ai muses.

He swings the notepad closed when Dr Kasukabe’s footfalls approach him at the front desk.

“You look healthier these days, Ai-kun. And less lonely, too,” Kasukabe comments.

“Do I, now,” he responds.

Despite Ai trying to seem indifferent, he’d say the doctor is correct. Ai _does_ feel nourished from gaining knowledge related to magic-users… and from all kinds of food Kamiz cooks.

Moreover, Kamiz and Risu would sometimes invite him to spar with them. Initially Ai took it as Risu wanting a chance to kick his ass, which did occur early on. But after Kamiz’s hits and limb-locks leave Ai seeing stars, he agrees to buy a pair of boxing wraps and train at the siblings’ place at least once a week.

He allows himself a little smile.

“I became friends with some neighbours closer to my age than yours,” Ai explains.

Kasukabe laughs heartily, aware of this clinic assistant’s mischievous jab. “Well, that’s great to know!” Soon he inhales softly and beams at Ai with sincerity. “I’m glad there are people in this city who can make you happy.”

_Happy? In Hole?_

When Kasukabe’s Medical Treatment and Diagnosis clinic’s opening hours end, Ai tidies his workplace and packs up his belongings.

He glances in the direction of Kasukabe’s research lab, but then lifts his modest backpack and exits the clinic.

_There’s much more knowledge to gather from living sorcerer friends than the corpses of dead strangers. I don’t relish the idea of_ using _Kamiz to visit the sorcerer world. She is not someone to use, and neither is Risu. They are sweet people. Humorous, intelligent, compassionate people…_

“Hey you!”

“Yeah, you. With the silly cap.”

_Not these fanatics._

Ai stops in his tracks. The bill of his cap shades his upper face from the Hole militia, but those fuckers have other ways of identifying him.

“Have you seen any magic-users ’round these parts, kid?” one burly militiaman demanded.

He freezes, wide eyes thankfully concealed from the brutish men’s view.

Barely a second later, all four militia members burst into laughter.

“Of course he’s seen them, but we killed’em first!”

“This weirdo works for that freaky doctor Kasukabe.”

“We should get them to pay us for giving them bodies to play with.”

Ai waits for the sounds of callous jeers to leave the street before he slinks away. He takes back alley routes to the apartment complex and watches out for anyone following or observing him.

Like most times, no regular Hole human paid him any mind. He arrives at the block where his residence isn’t, and hurries to the place that made him feel most at ease.

He rings the doorbell, he knocks on the door – but there was no answer.

Ai paces back and forth along the corridor. The skies have been overcast all day, and it could rain at any time. Did Kamiz and Risu bring their raincoats and umbrella? What if the patrolling militiamen see the siblings weakened by the rain –

_Stop!_

He inhales and exhales methodically. His feet slow down, and he supports himself by leaning against the corridor railing.

The faint sun is sinking, and many citizens of Hole are commuting back from work or looking for something to eat or drink. The common humans here seldom display liveliness, so Ai easily picks out the above-average speed of two neatly-dressed persons ambling into the complex.

Ai breathes in deeply and sighs with relief. They are safe, and they are carrying a couple of steaming boxes – but the point is, they are safe.

He steps back and stands with his back against the wall next to the siblings’ apartment door. They are safe and alive for today, and they will stay that way for a good long while.

Kamiz blinks twice at the sight of him. “Ai-kun? Have you been waiting for us?” she asks.

Beside her, Risu _hmph_ s. “Better him than those banana-looking brutes.”

Ai resists the urge to grasp Risu by the shoulders and tell him to take the Hole militia more seriously. He has already surpassed Kamiz’s height, and could probably overtake Ai’s in a few months’ time.

He lowers his hands and eyes, unsure of what to say.

Kamiz opens the door for Risu to enter the room and take their boxes to the dining table.

“You okay, Ai?” she asks. When he looks at her, he finds a sense of care as deep as her eyes shining through him.

_She won’t laugh at me for saying this, would she?_

“I don’t want to sleep alone tonight,” he confesses. “I know – my grandpa is hardly ever home and I’m used to sleeping by myself. But tonight, I can’t…”

Kamiz claps her small right hand on his left shoulder.

“That’s okay.” She briefly looks at her room interior. “We don’t have another futon and pillow, and the spare blankets are being dried. Will you be okay with sleeping on the couch?”

At this point, Ai wouldn’t even mind sleeping beneath the study desk.

**…**

He returns to Kamiz’s apartment with the necessary supplies for an overnight stay: a blanket and a pillow, his toothbrush, and a change of clothes for the morning after.

The boxes the siblings were carrying contained takeout from a barbecue restaurant. They explain that their supervisor Syvia has an old friend who runs it, and she is helping promote the place by offering these samples to Pulley Tray employees.

“And they call these ‘samples’,” Risu says incredulously, eyeing the large skewers of grilled meat and vegetables.

“Must be a huge restaurant,” Kamiz remarks with a matching expression.

Ai smiles on the inside. This place, the siblings – they soothe his soul.

In two short weeks of getting to know each other, Ai manages to befriend Kamiz and Risu, learning their interests while they learn his. Over time, Risu stopped scrutinising Ai’s behaviour as well.

“Ouch!” Risu exclaims.

Tonight is Ai’s turn to have an eye on Risu, although this time it’s in concern rather than suspicion.

“That milk tooth is still bothering you, huh?” Kamiz asks. “I wish we could pull it out already. We can’t see a human dentist because they would see the smoke particles in Risu’s blood.”

Ai puts down his food. “Do you have a first-aid kit?” he asks.

“Medical box: second drawer on left side of dressing table. I’ll go get it.”

While Risu wiggles the loose tooth and winces in pain, Kamiz retrieves the medical box and opens it at the dining table.

Ai washes and disinfects his hands; there are no gloves, so he will have to rely on his fingers’ grip. Once his hands are dried, he rolls up a ball of cotton wool to fit the gap between Risu’s teeth.

Ai motions for Risu to take away his hand and open his mouth. The strange-eyed boy obeys with some trepidation. His sister holds his hands while Ai feels inside his mouth for the loose tooth.

He found it, but the texture of the tooth is coarse. He briefly takes his hand out to fold a square of thin gauze to cushion his fingers. No need to stain Risu’s mouth with a human’s blood.

“Don’t worry; I’ll make it quick,” Ai promises.

His gauzed fingers pinch hard, and his hand tugs back.

Risu screams. Ai swiftly stuffs the bleeding gap with the dense cotton ball he rolled.

“If you don’t like bits of cotton fibre sticking to your mouth, you can wrap the cotton balls in gauze before plugging up the wound – kind of like a tiny cigarette between your teeth. Keep replacing them until the gums heal over,” he advises.

Kamiz briefly rubs Risu’s back, and smiles at Ai in… can he say admiration?

“Thanks, Ai. I’m not as well-versed in medicine as I need to be,” she says sheepishly.

Soon Kamiz attends to Risu more closely. Ai hopes she is not paying attention as he places the slightly bloody gauze-covered tooth in an airtight sachet. He discreetly hides it in his pocket while he goes to wash his hands again.

Back at the dining table, Kamiz prepared four cotton-filled gauze capsules and laid them on a clean tissue paper for Risu to use later. Risu is slowly sipping water.

“I understand you’re mainly interested in becoming a sorcerer and going to their world. Is medicine one of your other hobbies?” she asks Ai.

“It’s work, actually. I’m not a qualified doctor, but I’m trying to learn as much as I can about human and sorcerer bodies.” This feels like a lot to say, but he cannot stop. “That’s why I work at Kasukabe’s Medical Treatment and Diagnosis. It’s a clinic that treats victims of magic-user practice.”

Ai feared some sort of backlash from the siblings, but Kamiz goes on to regard him with that knowledge-welcoming stare, and Risu nods with her.

“It makes sense to have that kind of clinic here. Hole doesn’t have healing smoke like the sorcerer world,” he comments.

Kamiz smirks at Risu. “Well, I’m glad to see you open up to Ai-kun a little more.”

“He pulled out my tooth, sis! How much more open do you want me to be?”

**…**

Kamiz and Risu tidy up the table after dinner, storing away leftovers and wiping surfaces clean. Ai volunteered to wash the dishes.

When he is done, he finds Risu on the couch reading a picture book about plants. Kamiz picks up a familiar book from its shelf.

“Ai, you said you work at Kasukabe’s clinic. Is that _the_ Doctor Kasukabe who wrote this book?” She holds up her copy of _‘Magic-Users And Us’_.

He nods. “The one and the same.” The truth is out, so he could try asking them what he had in mind.

“So if it’s alright, can I take the two of you to meet him sometime?”

Kamiz looks to Risu; her face is neutral, but he is naturally wary.

“What’s Dr Kasukabe like?” Risu asks in turn.

“He helps people who have been used by sorcerers as practice targets. He is science-minded, but not to the point of being heartless or sadistic. And he is married to a magic-user.”

Risu and Kamiz lower their respective books in unison. “Married?” they both repeated.

Ai adjusts his cap nervously. “He hasn’t seen her in years, though, since she returned to the sorcerer world. Anyway, I think the doctor would be thrilled to meet you.”

Kamiz smiles and briefly tilts her head. “Well, as long as I’m not just there to take him to that world to find his wife, I’m okay with it. Risu?”

“A human married to a magic-user… Sure, I’ll come along and see him for myself,” Risu declares.

Ai nods at them in gratitude. He can imagine Dr Kasukabe asking the siblings intrusive questions, but now is not the time to worry about that.

The hour is late, so the three of them get ready for the night. Ai sets up his pillow and blanket on the three-seater couch; he decides he can leave his cap on the study desk. He can hear Risu gargling in the bathroom, and hopes the boy’s gum has stopped bleeding.

Kamiz has brushed her own teeth and is now choosing a book to read to bed. After picking up a tattered first-aid manual, she pulls away the red elastic hair-tie holding her dark brown locks in a ponytail.

She turns around and picks at three strands of long hair that were stuck to the hair-tie before she realised Ai was observing her.

“Ah, sheesh – I’m sorry you had to see this grossness,” Kamiz says, grimacing as she finally separates those strands from her hair-tie.

“Kamiz-neesan sheds hair like a cat,” Risu states with a cheeky smile.

“I-it’s fine, I don’t think it’s gross,” Ai replies, keeping a close eye on the strands that Kamiz lets drop – into the waste basket. “And besides, I doubt your hair is thinning out anytime soon.”

Risu throws his head back when he laughs next. “That’s how you’re gonna flirt with Kamiz-neesan, huh?”

Kamiz loops an arm over Risu’s throat and playfully grinds her knuckles against his temple.

“Not every compliment is a flirt, you absolute baby squirrel.”

When the siblings are done with roughhousing and giggles, Ai (maintaining his best neutral poker-face) offers to sweep the floors and remove the tangled strands from Kamiz’s hairbrush.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I _want_ to.”

The smile on Kamiz’s face afterward nearly cracked Ai’s mask of detachment. She thanks him and appreciates his selflessness.

The siblings bade him goodnight and he responded accordingly. But when most of the apartment room’s lights are out, Ai places the sachet containing Risu’s pulled-out tooth in a small compartment of his backpack. He also stores a different airtight sachet containing strands of Kamiz’s hair he gathered earlier.

As Ai makes himself comfortable on the couch, pillowed and blanketed in semi-darkness, a part of him asks what would happen if the siblings find out he had been collecting their leavings.

_They don’t have to know; that’s the point_ , he tells himself.

Still, given the knowledge that Kamiz and Risu are freely sharing with him… must he still indulge compulsive behaviour from his younger days?

_Why not? Currently, this hurts neither them nor me. I_ will _become a magic-user._

_Will_ he, though? Even at the cost of his life?

He hears a snore through the open door of the main bedroom, and wonders if it was Kamiz or Risu.

_Not at the cost of my life, then._

Ai pulls the blanket up to his chin and closes his eyes.

_I want to stay alive for my friends… with my friends._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Remember in chapter #141 where Ai shows the ‘treasure’ he hid in the rundown house where he used to play as a kid? The earthenware fermentation jar filled with magic-user bones, and the sauce jars filled with magic-user hair?  
> All things considered, Risu was right to call Ai a ‘creepy geek’.


	8. Phenotypes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr Kasukabe unlocks siblings’ tragic backstories as well.  
> \+ My reason for Risu liking and caring about plants is: in this divergence, he is no longer just angry at the world or inquisitive about his magic. Cacti fascinated Risu early on because of how they’re able to thrive in deserts. Branching off from this, Risu ponders plants as life-forms different from animals and humans.

.....

Ai’s overnight stays at Kamiz and Risu’s place are becoming a weekly event. They already invited him over to train his fighting skills, so they welcome him to freshen up and rest his tired bones there as well.

One afternoon, while manning the reception desk for Kasukabe’s Medical Treatment and Diagnosis, Ai overheard a conversation between unconnected patients at the waiting room. They said the corrugation deformities on their skin are caused by the same pair of sorcerers in snake masks, and the Hole militia are trying to smoke them out as they speak.

Ai tells himself not to worry. The siblings do not wear masks, and they don’t have transformation magic. Heck, it’s not like they go around victimising humans in Hole in the first place.

He is getting better at composing himself while around the militia.

On a particular day of the year, Ai informs the siblings that he wants to stay overnight again, even though it was a workday and they have no training scheduled. They welcome him anyway, and allow for his additional precautions on securing the doors and windows of the apartment.

Ai is not sure whether Kamiz is aware of the annual Night of the Living Dead, but he does not broach the topic. The siblings have to look out for each other without Ai pushing his own anxieties onto them.

Prior to the meeting Ai arranged, he mentioned Dr Kasukabe ‘eating like a bachelor’, which is how Ai ate before befriending Kamiz and Risu.

“Does the clinic have a kitchen?” Kamiz asked.

“The doctor and I call it a pantry. It has a sink, some cupboards, a cooking area with a stove, and a dining table,” Ai answered.

“What about a frying pan and spatula?”

“I – think there is.”

Kamiz nodded at his words, eyeing her own kitchen.

“That sounds enough to make deep-fried pastries. It’s not the healthiest of snacks, so I’ll prepare and bring a side of vegetables as well.”

**…**

For the purpose of the meeting, Kamiz has requested a half-day off for herself and Risu. Syvia leniently permits it, because the siblings rarely take leave anyway.

“Aren’t you worried that the doctor might take advantage of us?” Risu voices his concern at home.

He has changed out of a button-up shirt into a T-shirt that he is steadily outgrowing.

“It is only ‘taking advantage’ if it’s one-sided. To be fair, we should establish terms so we get something out of the meet as well,” Kamiz explains. Her ‘I <3 Hole’ T-shirt hangs loose on her figure.

“Huuuh,” Risu exclaims, unconvinced.

Kamiz has placed her saxophone case on the study table, and is now selecting what to bring in a recently-emptied backpack.

“Barter or trade between strangers is reasonable, especially if it leaves both parties better off. Keeping score on favours, or tracking debt between family members? Now _that_ is a path to a toxic relationship.”

“Alright,” Risu replies.

The saxophone makes sense now. After the siblings attend to the doctor and Ai’s interests, they might welcome a display of sorcerer hobbies as well.

Risu decides to bring along one book on decorative plants, plus a pen and a notepad on plants he observes in Hole.

Kamiz loads her backpack with the following: her copy of Dr Kasukabe’s book; an entry-level sorcerer biology textbook; an entry-level smoke physics book; human anatomy basics; informal records on effects of magic to sorcerer or human bodies; her ‘outdoor’ pencil case; the Kasukabe knowledge gap project workbook; two blank books; and a water bottle.

“Sis… seriously? You’re gonna break your back one day,” Risu comments, only half-joking.

“And that day will be decades away. For today, these things are necessary,” Kamiz tells him.

So Risu tasks himself with carrying the box of premade curry puffs with egg and potato, the side dish of boiled broccoli, and the bottle of vegetable oil for eventual frying.

The siblings lock up their apartment and stroll down to the clinic’s address; Ai helpfully provided the directions on one of his sleepover nights.

Arriving in front of the clinic, they can see Ai walking beside a middle-aged female patient. She has suffered an incomplete transformation on her head, with the lower half of her face turned into the snout and jaw of a wild boar.

“I wish the sorcerer who cast this magic on me would drop dead,” they can hear her say.

Kamiz pushes the clinic door open to help the woman exit.

“Ah, thank you, dear.”

“It’s my pleasure,” Kamiz replies.

Once the partly-transformed woman is outside and away, Kamiz holds the door open for Risu and steps into the building behind him. Ai leads their way to the pantry in the back.

“I’m sorry you had to hear that…” Ai mutters to them.

Kamiz lowers her backpack and rests it against a leg of the dining table. “Ehh, I’ve heard worse. Plus, that ain’t me,” she assures Ai.

“That ain’t me either. Chill out, bro,” Risu adds.

Ai stares at the siblings as they bustle about the pantry. Apparently that was not an answer he expected to hear.

**…**

Doctor Kasukabe hears a commotion in the back of the clinic ground floor. He leaves his office to check it out, and sees a fit young man tidying the staff dining area alongside Ai. A young woman with dark hair in a ponytail has washed a number of utensils and wiped the cooking area, and she is now heating up oil in a frying pan.

“Kasukabe-sensei,” Ai greets, “these are the neighbours I became friends with.” He introduces the friendly-faced boy as Risu and the bespectacled woman as Kamiz.

“Is this necessary? You don’t have to cook for me,” Kasukabe remarks with an awkward laugh.

Kamiz flips the three puff pastries in the pan to fry their other sides. She steps away from the stove to face Kasukabe.

“My mother never wanted me to do anything of my own volition. My very act of cooking food, of _my_ choosing, becomes an exercise of free will,” she declares, her face completely serious.

But then she relaxes her posture and shrugs. “Yeah, that was needlessly dramatic. I just wanted you and Ai-kun to eat nicer food every now and then.”

Kamiz returns to the stove and continues frying premade pastries. “You boys can tell Dr Kasukabe how Risu and I came to live in Hole, right? I can’t be telling the story every time.”

“Roger,” Risu says with a salute.

Ai assists Risu in setting up plates and cutlery at the table. Risu also opens a box of broccoli for them to eat alongside the pastries.

The two young men tell Kasukabe that the sorceress Komimizuku faced a lifetime of being controlled by her mother, and attempted suicide six years ago. The younger sorcerer Risu was abandoned by his father and constantly bullied and belittled at the orphanage, all because he cannot put out smoke.

Komimizuku maintained a place in Hole, and Risu asked to move there with her for good. Since then, Komimizuku took on the name Kamiz and the role of Risu’s older sister. Ai helped out the adoptive siblings on a rainy day, and after some initial panic regarding discovery, the siblings befriended Ai.

So here they are now, sitting at the pantry dining table, waiting for curry pastries to be freshly fried.

Kasukabe does not say it aloud, but he now understands the reason behind Kamiz’s earlier dramatic words.

Kamiz shuts the gas stove and leaves the cooking implements to cool down from their use. The golden-brown crusts of semi-circular curry puffs are arranged in rows on a large plate lined with a kitchen towel to absorb excess oil.

“Give it a few moments to cool down, and we can all dig in,” she informs the three others.

“It’s so tempting, isn’t it? At least the broccolis are ready to eat,” Risu adds.

Kasukabe watches the two young sorcerers, and looks at Ai, whom he now can see smiling and almost laughing at times – thanks to the presence of the two.

“I understand your lives in the sorcerer world were terrible, to say the least,” he says to the siblings. “Still, it must’ve taken you two a lot of courage to move here, especially considering how much danger you could be in.”

Kamiz gives a small smile. “It wasn’t a problem for me. I learn quickly and make sure to stay informed.”

Risu nods. “Sis and I take regular precautions, and Ai-kun even came up with diversion tactics for us to use,” he proffers.

“Did he, now?” Kasukabe exclaims, and beams brightly at the young man who has assisted at his clinic for well over a year.

The siblings describe one close brush they’ve had with the Hole militia: three men followed the siblings, but as advised by Ai, they hid behind crates while Risu threw a smoke bottle far away. The sound contained in Kamiz’s magic smoke drove the militiamen into a frenzy, wildly searching for sorcerers who claim to be practicing immobilisation and barrier-type magic.

Kamiz and Risu were forgotten during that wild search, for their voices are nothing like those of the crass young sorcerers.

Throughout the recollection, Ai was trying not to smile, but he cannot hide the relief in his eyes when he heard that the siblings got away safely.

“That is brilliant,” Kasukabe exclaims, regarding Ai with unreserved pride.

**…**

There is a relaxed, welcoming air to the surroundings while they bite into flaky pastries and munch on soft greens. However, after three quarters of the curry puffs are gone, Kamiz notices Risu’s slight discomfort.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” he asks Dr Kasukabe.

“My apologies, Risu-kun. I’ve just never seen someone with your hair or eyes before,” the doctor explains.

Ai nods in agreement. “I used to worry that Risu looks too strange to be a human. Then again, no local in Hole has ever questioned it.”

“Risu’s hair and eye phenotypes aren’t exactly common among sorcerers either,” Kamiz states. “Then again, the Hole inhabitants must’ve been accustomed to seeing stranger outcomes of magic-user transformation practice.”

Risu narrows his eyes at Kamiz. “Phenotypes?” he repeats.

Kamiz smirks at him and lifts her glasses comically, in the manner of tipping a hat.

“On the other hand, Kamiz-kun, you look more human than most humans here, so to speak,” Kasukabe continues. “And there is one other thing I want to make sure of.”

“Huh?”

Kasukabe stirs his mug of tea and then sips from it.

“I’ve noticed that you can’t eat food or drink water that is too hot. Your hair falls easily, and Ai-kun once told me you wear socks a lot, even indoors.”

“Yeah, my feet get cold often,” Kamiz replies, pretending not to see Ai getting back at Risu for some silent tease.

Kasukabe glances down at his mug, and regards Kamiz again.

“Have you ever considered the possibility that you’re thyroid-deficient?”

“Eh??” Even the boys stopped tussling when they hear that proclamation.

He pulls a cigarette from a box to his mouth, and lights it before he continues explaining.

“It’s a hormone imbalance that occurs in a small fraction of humans. I wasn’t sure whether sorcerers’ endocrine systems work like those of humans. But now I’m convinced that more than a few sorcerer bodies also follow the fundamental rules of the human figure.”

Kamiz nods slowly. Risu glances at her, and looks at his own hands.

_You’re right, bro. When we can’t find something in the sorcerers’ world, we try looking for it among humans._

Kamiz bends down to open her backpack and heave two books out onto the table: her copy of Dr Kasukabe’s book, and her related workbook on knowledge gaps.

“Doctor, Ai-kun once told me that he’s interested in a joint effort to fill some knowledge gaps in your book. Are you willing to let a bunch of scrubs revise parts of your life’s work?”

“By all means, please do!” Kasukabe says cheerfully. “It’s nice to see young minds like you and Ai-kun delving into mapping magic-user versus human biology. You remind me of when my wife and I discuss similar things well into the night.”

Bored of the medical talk, Risu had been sitting with his elbows on the table, thumbs supporting his chin and a hand over his mouth. But after hearing Dr Kasukabe’s most recent sentences, Risu raises a barely-visible brow while looking at Ai.

Ai’s jaw is tight and his mouth is pressed in a straight line, but beneath his baseball cap, Kamiz imagines he is glaring murderous daggers at Risu.

“Yeah, well, I’m not _the_ best source of sorcerer biology expertise,” Kamiz states, leaning back a little in her chair. “I received basic education, but even if I were to go into research, the sorcerer world biomedical studies can seem backward compared to human medicine.”

“Backward?” Ai asks. He definitely didn’t expect that remark.

“As in, lacking academic rigour.”

Dr Kasukabe blinks. “Why would that be the case?”

“There are several interconnected reasons,” Kamiz explains, listing them off one by one.

First: sorcerers in general are overly reliant on healing smoke as a cure-all for any magic- or non-magic-related injuries and afflictions.

Second: there is a monopoly or cartel on healing smoke which gouges smoke prices to keep them high.

Third: that same cartel has been rumoured to impede or destroy any research involving substitutes to healing smoke.

Fourth: sorcerer biology can be overly unique and highly inconsistent, such that even standard surgery results are unpredictable.

“That last part comes with the ‘magic’ territory, I suppose,” Kamiz finishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if the pacing is weird. I’m just worried about having too many words in one chapter.


	9. Devils and Deadness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW medical gore and dead bodies, plus almost-vomit.

.....

Risu yawns openly. Ai resists the temptation to reach over and shut that mouth.

“You’ve had your share of nerding out about medicine. Can the two of us share _our_ interests this time?” he asks for himself and Kamiz.

“Go ahead, Risu-kun. I don’t doubt that sorcerers have pursuits that they’re passionate about,” Dr Kasukabe replies, ever jovial and receptive.

Risu takes out a notepad containing his distinctive scrawl. “Here’s what I’ve noticed about flora life in Hole…”

Ai only half-listens to Risu rambling to Dr Kasukabe about the sad state of plants in the city – that is, in the parts of the city he has seen. Natural-growing plants such as herbs and wild grass are present in fertile empty lots. Aside from that, people in Hole hardly maintain greenery.

“At least there are plants on the corridor outside Ai-kun’s apartment. Aside from that, the greenest place in Central Hole is our balcony.”

Dr Kasukabe smiles. “Well – I think you should visit my home sometime. You can find trees on the mansion grounds.”

“Trees?!”

Kamiz lets out a soft laugh, seeing Ai’s incredulous reaction to Risu’s joyful outburst.

“Risu has always wanted to visit the fringe farms in Hole, but I suppose the doctor’s mansion is closer,” she says.

She has put her books away and cleared her part of the dining table to put her rectangular instrument case there. She takes out a golden-looking instrument and assembles its parts, finally attaching a reed to the mouthpiece. She steps away from the dining table to tune the instrument.

“It’s true, you can see plants and other greenery more often in the sorcerers’ world. But have you found any major differences between plants from there and in Hole?” Kasukabe asks Risu.

Ai smiles; the doctor certainly knows what to say to curious students. It eases his heart to see his favourite people get along.

Kamiz plays her instrument softly; her concern was less about lack of confidence and more of not drowning out the science-minded nerds’ chatter. The songs she plays have a rhythmic feel to them, as if they are meant to be played on electric stringed instruments rather than her woodwind contraption.

Ai leans back in his chair and closes his eyes. Maybe there _is_ a way for him to be happy living in Hole…

He hears Kasukabe indulging Risu’s gardening talk for a moment, but then the doctor trails off. Ai opens his eyes and sees Kasukabe staring intently at Kamiz.

“I thought that sounded familiar,” he exclaims.

Kamiz notices everyone’s attention on her and stops playing.

“Are you sure? You might be the first human to recognise a song by an artist in the sorcerer world,” she replies.

Kasukabe shakes his head, a wistful smile on his face.

“I just remember that as a tune my wife used to hum. I haven’t seen her in years…”

Kamiz gasps. “Ah, Ai mentioned before that your wife is a magic-user.”

“We completely overlooked that. Sorry, Kasukabe-sensei,” Risu adds.

“It’s no problem!” Kasukabe just laughs it off, and continues: “Even though I publish under her name, it would be odd for people to know me specifically for her.”

Ai listens closely. The doctor used to avoid talking about his magic-user wife.

“My name is actually Haze. Kasukabe was _her_ name, but people call her Haru.”

Kamiz’s eyes widen in shock. “Wait… _Haru_?”

**…**

She racks her brain. There is a chance Dr Kasukabe is talking about _the_ Haru, or some other sorceress with a common nickname. What are the odds?

Kamiz clutches the alto saxophone to her chest. In her mind’s eye, she was thirteen years old, lying in bed with headphones on. No disrespect to the devils, Mother claimed, but this artist is not to Mother’s taste.

_Tear the skin  
Rip the flesh  
Cut their life from existence_

_Crush the brain_   
_Melt the heart_   
_No room for forgiveness_

Not only does Mother have an ugly voice; she also has _no_ taste. This artist – this devil – got Kamiz through her youth, a retreat and relief to her ears.

In the present, Kamiz rests the saxophone in its case without disassembling it yet. She draws the pantry curtains shut, and closes the door to the reception area.

Facing her three companions again, she casts a sphere of magic smoke to play a chorus she knows well.

Dr Kasukabe puts out his second cigarette in a tray. It was a good thing it didn’t fall out of his mouth when his jaw dropped.

“That’s her… That is my wife’s voice as I remember it.”

Kamiz stands frozen where she conjured her smoke. She wanted to ask why Ai never told her that Dr Kasukabe’s wife is _the_ musician devil Haru. She doesn’t, of course, because Ai would not have known about this.

Kasukabe regains his composure and rubs the back of his neck, forcing out a laugh.

“Ah, sorry Kamiz-kun! You’ve gone to the _very_ risky trouble of using your magic, and all I can think about was my wife,” he jokes.

“She matters to you; she does to me, too,” Kamiz replies.

She waves away remaining smoke particles in the air, and then reclaims her seat. Risu is taking in the situation with wide-eyed confusion, and Ai is carefully following this development.

“Did she become a successful artist in the sorcerer world?” Kasukabe asks in his usual polite tone.

_How am I supposed to break this to the doctor?_

“You can say that, maybe…” Kamiz trails off and bites her lip.

_He’s a man of science who welcomes discoveries. There’s no point hiding it from him._

“There is something sorcerers can undergo – that would be the process of becoming a devil, a sentient creature with near-limitless power and knowledge.”

Kamiz raises her eyes from the table. Risu no longer looks confused; he’s smart enough to connect the dots. But the two humans in the room do not have the requisite knowledge to understand yet.

“When a magic-user’s powers are deemed strong enough, existing devils can hand them a business card. If the magic-user wishes, they can undergo training to become a fellow devil. The training is punishing and torturous, but if the magic-user survives, they will transform into a devil. In the sorcerer world, they are comparable to deities worthy of worship.”

Kasukabe lights up a new cigarette; he is still processing this new information, whereas Ai looks overwhelmed by it.

“I never knew about devils,” Ai breathes out. He looks up at Kamiz and Risu. “Sorcerers have magic, and on top of that, they are capable of enduring great change…”

There is a look in the human boy’s narrow eyes that unsettles her, but she will not call it out.

“From what you’re saying, I gather Haru has become a devil,” Kasukabe states. “There is something new in her voice, but I can still tell it’s her. Does she – look different?”

“I have a Haru T-shirt that I try not to wear in public here in Hole. But on our next visit, I can bring it along to show you how she looks as a devil,” Kamiz offers.

Kasukabe chuckles. “I appreciate it.”

**…**

The clinic’s front door opens with a thud, and then voices of strangers reach the pantry. Risu nearly jumps out of his seat.

“Is the doctor here?”

Kasukabe gets up from the pantry dining table. “Work calls, unfortunately. Come along, Ai-kun.”

Seemingly snapped out of his reverie, Ai follows the doctor to the clinic front. He slips through the door and keeps it narrow, so as not to let the patients see into the ground floor’s back room.

Kamiz peeks over the edge of the dining table; she had crouched behind the furniture when the clinic door opened. She treads softly and listens through the pantry door. Soon she returns to softly inform Risu what she heard.

“Head and upper body injuries. No transformations; probably barrier or projectiles.”

Risu nods. He doesn’t know about any lasting effects on humans, but so far he has survived those types of magic attacks on him.

Kamiz packs up her saxophone and begins cleaning up the dining and cooking areas. Risu helps; he has learned his sister’s way of moving around with minimal noise.

They washed the dishes, wiped surfaces, swept the floor, stored away unused cooking material, and put unfinished food in the fridge. Even after all that, Dr Kasukabe and Ai have not returned.

“This clinic has two floors above the ground. Wanna go check it out?” Risu asks Kamiz.

She has that near-frown warning him against taking unnecessary risks.

“We’ll stay out of sight. It’s good for our sneaking skills,” he states.

“What do we say if the patients see us?” she questions, her voice hushed.

“That depends on what Ai-kun or Kasukabe-sensei will tell’em.”

Risu stops bantering and cracks the pantry door to peep through.

“They’re all in a room now. The door with Kasukabe-sensei’s name is closed, and the only windows are some high ones.”

Kamiz pockets a notepad and pen, and slips through the door behind Risu. He would like to think he has mastered the skill of walking around without normal people sensing his footfalls. Kamiz is his teacher, after all.

They made it past the front-end reception area unseen and unheard. Tiptoeing on stairs is trickier because some steps can creak simply from placing weight on them.

“There has to be space between the middle floor and the ground ceiling. Once we’re on the middle floor landing, we can almost walk normally,” Kamiz says.

“Right,” Risu whispers.

The path at the top of the stairs takes them to an unlit corridor. Risu hadn’t sensed it downstairs, but here in proximity of those hanging bags, he has a feeling he is going to be sick.

Beside him, Kamiz suppresses a bad word. “We shouldn’t be here.”

He hears her hushed voice, but he flips a light switch on the wall anyway.

The bags lining the corridor, hanging on thick wire cords like curtains on a rail, turned out to contain dissected organic bits. Humanoid figures stripped of skin, limbs cleanly chopped off, and innards freely shown outside.

And so many severed heads, so many brain cross-sections and emptied-out skulls.

Risu covers his mouth with one hand. He can feel Kamiz pulling him by the other, hurrying him through the corridor. He keeps his eyes down, watching his steps, while Kamiz-neesan takes him to the uppermost floor. She opens a door and quickly shuts it, instead tapping his shoulder and pointing to a ladder.

The siblings climb up. Apparently there is a hatch leading to the roof. There are subtle rounded dents indicating people may have sat on those spots before, so Risu settles into the larger indentation.

Kamiz, however, huddles against Risu’s right side. Her expression is glum, but she bears none of the shock and disgust that Risu feels.

“Can we still be friends with them, knowing this is what they do to sorcerers?” he asks.

“ _Dead_ sorcerers, Risu. And it’s not like Ai-kun or Kasukabe-sensei did the killings themselves,” Kamiz points out.

Risu exhales through his nose. It was one thing to _hear about_ surgeries and dissection; _seeing_ the products of those efforts, standing close enough to touch specimens…

Sorcerers, dead. Sis and himself lifeless on operating tables. Gloved hands and disinfected implements poking and prodding in their heads and bodies. A large man and his assistant, in surgical wear, exchanging tools and bagging the specimens.

Image after image played in Risu’s head, and he struggles to not throw up on the roof.

“Man, you really can’t see any plants from here,” Kamiz exclaims.

That’s right. Big sis is grounding him in the present. He focuses on breathing in and out, eyes searching for any sign of green in this concrete jungle.

“Not even our place, huh? The buildings around this clinic are too tall, so they block our view,” Risu remarks.

Kamiz places a hand on top of her head and draws a level line toward Risu. He smirks; it’s not just his arms and legs that are growing, but his body as well.

“I’m obviously out of the race. The next person’s height for you to beat is Ai-kun. You’d better watch out, because his ankles are showing more often.”

Risu would have teased her about Ai, but he cannot forget the magic-user specimens in the corridors downstairs.

“Should we ask Ai-kun about the research lab and corridors?” he wonders.

“I don’t need to ask him.” Because of course she doesn’t, being an adult and all.

But she looks up at Risu with gentle, non-judgmental eyes.

“You can, if it’s important to you. I cannot force my feelings onto you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My personal headcanon is that Haru’s voice resembles that of Amy Lee of Evanescence.


	10. Impending Haircut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW talks of suicide and death.  
> I legit hecking teared up while writing the AiRisu scene.

.....

Ai thought the lunch meeting was going well. He is overjoyed that Kasukabe and Kamiz found a common connection in the doctor’s wife Haru. It was so unexpected that Ai might even call it a _magical_ coincidence.

But then lunch had to end because two Hole citizens had been sniped by projectile-smoke sorcerers. There was no news on the culprits, and at the moment the duo are most concerned about how the magic will affect them.

According to Dr Kasukabe, there are no major lasting effects, other than equivalent physical trauma that ordinary humans or objects can inflict. He and Ai patched up the wounds and gave medication and advice to accelerate healing.

When the patients are treated and gone, Ai washes his hands and looks for Kamiz and Risu. They are not in the pantry, but their stuff is still here… where did they go?

Heart in his throat, Ai speeds toward the stairs to the middle floor.

“Ai-kun? What’s wrong?” Kasukabe asked.

Sweat drips down Ai’s brow. On the landing of the middle floor, Risu looks uncharacteristically small. His arms are crossed over his front, and he is not looking at the now-lit specimen corridor or the humans remaining in the clinic.

“Sis is in the research lab if you want to talk science with her,” he states.

Kasukabe reaches Ai’s side, close but not touching.

“Take Risu-kun downstairs, Ai. And just – talk to him.”

The doctor nods at Risu as he passes the young sorcerer. Ai wanted to take Risu by the hand, but the boy recoiled from his reach.

“Let’s go back to the pantry,” Ai just says. He leads the way, looking over his shoulder to make sure Risu is following – which he does, at least.

**…**

Haze Kasukabe strolls down the corridor, past the operating theatre and into the clinic’s research lab. The lights are on, and he couldn’t help smiling when he sees Kamiz jotting down notes in a notepad. She pays special attention to devil tumours – comparing them to each other, and to the sorcerers they came from.

“Doctor, d’you know what topic most intrigued me when reading your book?” Kamiz asks.

“Which one is it?”

“The chapter on how smoke powers and quality are inherited – specifically, the way they are _not_. Despite strong magic-users becoming officiated partners and starting families, there is just no guarantee that the child will even inherit the same powers. In fact, the strongest sorcerers of today have vague or unknown bloodlines to speak of.”

Her eyes do not meet his, but she is gesturing emphatically throughout her lecture.

Kasukabe smiles; it refreshes him to talk to a science-minded sorcerer again. The last one he remembers speaking to was his wife.

“You know, Haru was the one who noted down the futility of sorcerers seeking ‘bloodline purity’. She theorises over-parenting as a potential cause for sorcerer offspring powers being stunted.”

Kamiz turns to him then; the joyful look on her face must be a match for whenever he thinks about Haru.

“The more I hear about her, the cooler I think she is,” Kamiz exclaims.

He gives her an apologetic nod. “I’m sorry you and Risu-kun stumbled into this part of the clinic with no prior warning. I cannot speak for him, but knowing your story… I think I should’ve helped you prepare first.”

Kamiz swivels her head around the room, analysing the dead specimens like a science-minded owl. She then pockets her notepad and pen.

“I have to say: I can have suicidal tendencies when things get dangerous. My instinct was to die to protect Risu – but I’ve spent enough time with Risu to know he would sacrifice himself to save me as well.”

She blinks back tears and breathes deliberately to steady herself.

“So instead of dying for each other, my resolve is to keep us alive to protect one another. There’s not much I can do for him when my body is dead and my soul is in Hell,” she says in a matter-of-fact voice.

Kasukabe stifles a snicker. The way she talks about something serious and still jokes about it… Kasukabe is now sure of that look Ai has whenever he looks at this sorceress-in-hiding.

“That’s very mature of you, Kamiz-kun. I think Haru would be proud.”

Kamiz responds with an awkward grimace. “Eh, well… I couldn’t hold a candle to her.”

Face neutral again, she pulls off her hair elastic and lets the dark brown length fall to her shoulders.

“I even grew out my hair so that I can bang my head the way Haru’s human form does. But her hair is silky and straight while mine is oily and wavy,” she complains.

This time Kasukabe chuckles openly.

“It’s lovely to hear that my wife is your role model. Still, you don’t have to feel pressured to actually model yourself after her.”

Kamiz looks up at him, blinking in her owlish manner.

“You can be fulfilled in life just by being Kamiz, or any other name you choose for yourself. Be the person your loved ones depend on.”

**…**

Risu has not said anything since Ai took him back to the pantry. He sits quietly, not looking at Ai.

He cannot begin to imagine how the young sorcerer feels. After escaping the mistreatment of cruel and powerful magic-users, Risu discovers that humans can also be cold in their pursuit of knowledge, and potentially power.

He wanted to apologise, but part of him laughs at how hollow the apology would be. He is the one who sought to become a sorcerer by studying their salvaged corpses.

“Kamiz-neesan doesn’t see things in a completely fixed view,” Risu begins, his voice soft. “Sure, many sorcerers have been bad to me and sis, and to countless humans in Hole. But she regards those sorcerers, even the Hole militia and their informants, as people. They are strangers to her, so she doesn’t hate them outright.”

He lets out a soft snort.

“It feels weird at first, to be hated or wanted dead by two completely different sets of people who don’t know you, for no other reason than existing. I realise I could’ve easily hated them too, but then I’d be comparable to them.”

He shakes his head.

“Maybe sis would be okay with me having that mindset – but I won’t.”

Ai stops watching Risu and lowers his eyes to the cleaned table surface. He had been worried about how the siblings feel when they hear humans’ remarks about magic-users, which are pretty bad in general. But at least those humans, to borrow Risu’s phrasing, are ‘strangers’.

What about someone who has befriended the siblings?

“I’m sorry you had to see all that, upstairs.” Ai knows it is a weak apology. “Dr Kasukabe performs dissections and experiments so that he can understand their magic, to help treat magic-user practice victims. Me – I just wanted to become a sorcerer.”

There, he admits his selfishness. Will Risu understand him, then?

Ai looks up at Risu, a sorcerer who couldn’t perform any magic. Tears cloud his narrow eyes.

Before, he had been afraid that the siblings will be hunted down and killed by violent humans. Now Ai is terrified and revulsed by the idea of cutting open and disfiguring these sorcerers who treated him like a friend.

Does he deserve to be with these kind-spirited people?

With some trepidation, he takes hold of Risu’s left wrist. His fair skin is soft against Ai’s fingers, the bones underneath are firm, and there is a pulse.

Ai sobs, letting his tears flow freely. Risu – the cheeky little shit that he is, with his adorable teeth and attempts at humour – is alive and breathing. _He’s alive_ , Ai tells himself. _Risu is alive…_

Right now, looking at this growing boy who has strange hair and eyes, it doesn’t even matter to Ai that he cannot use magic; Risu can’t, either.

At this moment, nothing else matters. Risu is a _friend_.

Being a sorcerer, being able to use magic – those old dreams pale in comparison to the very real friend whose hand he is currently holding.

“Ai-kun?” Risu asks. He may not be related to Kamiz by blood, but he has her owlish blink and gentle air.

He forces a determined grin and releases Risu’s hand. He wipes his face and meets those slit-shaped blue eyes.

“I can’t change the fact that powerful sorcerers treat the weak like trash, or that the militia indiscriminately targets any magic-user in Hole. But I can keep my sorcerer friends from dying. Because my friends are important to me.”

He glances at Risu and looks away quickly. He swallows before he speaks next.

“Are we still friends?”

This time Risu reaches for Ai’s hand, specifically the one whose fingers have pulled out a tooth some time ago.

“With how much you care about us? Of course we are,” Risu states, shaking that hand slightly.

The boy’s smile radiates warmth like sunrays, drying him off after he has spent hours standing in the dusty rain.

The pantry door opens again, and belatedly Ai realises he and Risu are holding hands. Risu makes a soft confused noise when he quickly pulled away, but Kamiz smiles at the two boys and gives conspiratorial nods.

 _What the hell was_ THAT _supposed to mean?!?!_

“It’s been a long day for all of us. The clinic is still open, so we have patients to look out for,” Kasukabe says to Kamiz. “I sincerely hope to see you and Risu-kun again soon. And thank you for the delicious food!”

She smiles and bows slightly in his direction. “I am thankful to have met you as well. Oh, and before I forget,” she says, glancing at Ai, “have you told sensei yet about the time you gave Risu first-aid?”

“Eeeeh…?”

**…**

The air is getting colder in Hole, but Pulley Tray employees keep at their duties. Risu learns that snow does not affect him or Kamiz as much as the rain.

Kamiz herself isn’t sure about the scientific reasons. Do snow clouds form at a higher altitude than rain clouds? She has to look up a textbook later.

For the moment, she sets a stool in front of the bathroom mirror.

“I know this probably isn’t the best time to get a haircut, but do you want one?” she asks Risu.

He hums thoughtfully. “Sure,” he answers.

Kamiz has helped cut Risu’s hair before; the first time was when he asked to work at Pulley Tray with her. Now she has gotten better at dealing with the spikier parts of his hair, and layering the blond and dark strands for aesthetic effects.

Once she is finished with Risu, she takes the hairdressing sheet off his shoulders. He gets off the stool to stretch and begins to leave the bathroom.

Then Kamiz sits on the stool and takes the scissors to her hair.

“Whoa, wait, sis! Are you seriously cutting your own hair?” Risu exclaims.

“Yeah. I’ve done it before, and I can do it again,” she replies, already deciding on a comfortable hair length.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself. Let me help you,” he insists, moving to stand behind her.

Kamiz smiles at him through the mirror. “Alright then – I’ll just cut down to the length I want. You follow up from there to make it even, or at least neat enough.”

After snipping off the dark brown locks that reached her shoulders, she removes her glasses and puts on the synthetic cloth to keep trimmed hair from sticking to her clothes. Risu ties the back strings, neither too loose nor too tight.

Although her vision is blurred, she can see some worry on Risu’s face. This is likely his first time cutting someone’s hair, so his movements are uncertain and hesitant.

“Don’t stress it out, kid. You can think of it as trimming a bonsai,” Kamiz advises him.

She finally sees a flash of teeth in Risu’s reflection. “Well – you are the first bonsai I have ever trimmed, but I can tell you’ll be the nerdiest,” he replies.

Kamiz rolls her eyes and sighs heavily, but says nothing else because Risu is holding sharp blades near her head.

Soon she puts her spectacles back on, and sees that Risu did a pretty good job, especially when he used the clippers to trim the hair growing out the sides of her head.

_I’ve always wanted a boyish haircut._

Kamiz will have time to admire her reflection later. Right now, she thanks and praises her brother, and concentrates on sweeping the hairs on the bathroom floor into an orange plastic bag.

“Say, d’you know who else could use a haircut? Ai-kun,” Risu says from the living room.

Kamiz barks out a laugh. “We’ll have to ask him if he wants it first, though,” she points out.

**…**

Ai takes off his coat and leaves it on the couch of his dingy apartment room. Okay, maybe it’s not so dingy anymore because he’s picked up some of Kamiz’s habits.

About a minute after he has closed the front door, he can hear the phone ringing.

 _I guess it’s_ their _turn to watch me_ , he mused to himself. True enough, when he picks up the phone, he can hear Risu giggling in the background.

“It’s me,” he greets the caller.

“Ai-kun, we’ve been wondering if you want a haircut as well,” Kamiz’s voice says.

Huh?

“What do you mean, ‘as well’?”

“We’re just done cutting our hair here at home. And let me tell ya: Risu is getting pretty good at it.”

“Aww, sis, you’re embarrassing me!” Risu whines in the background, although Ai imagines he does not feel embarrassed at all.

He takes off his cap and shakes the uneven strands out of his eyes. Is it really a good idea to have his hair cut, by Risu of all people?

Then again, Kamiz and Risu were doing this for free. He has no good reason to turn down their offer.

“Okay then. Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the last chapter, Ai is said to be growing stronger and taller.  
> At the end of this chapter, Ai gets a haircut!  
> What’s next – Ai receiving a magic-user name?


	11. Nerds' New Year

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who’s been reading the fic and leaving comments!  
> Minor update: beta'd by [DarkrystalSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky)

**.....**

As Ai arrives at the siblings’ apartment, he can barely recognise the person who opens the door. Kamiz now sports a boyish haircut, and emerging beside her is Risu, who welcomes him with a radiant smile.

Still unsure of what is happening, Ai finds himself sitting on a stool in the main bathroom, facing the large mirror. His cap with the 8-ball pattern now sits on the counter.

Risu ties the fastenings of a smooth thin cloth at the back of Ai’s neck. “D’you want a straight cut like Kamiz-neesan had, or layered like mine?”

Risu’s voice seems to reach him from a distance. He never had his hair or scalp touched like this before, with so much gentle care.

“Just make it a short version of how my hair is right now,” Ai replies.

“Layered, then. I’ll try to recreate how sis cut my hair.”

Ai’s skin prickles when he feels the scissors snip off hair along the hairline at the back of his head.

“Don’t cut the rest of my hair so short, okay?” Ai asks.

“What, because you have a big forehead?”

“ _ You _ have a big forehead.”

Risu scoffs, but continues to carefully layer the strands on the back of Ai’s head.

“Nice words to say to someone holding scissors behind you.”

Ai shuts his mouth then. As much as he hates to admit it, the hair on the sides of his head doesn’t look too bad now.

Risu leaves Ai’s front strands long enough to reach his eyebrows, snipping in angles so that they don’t look too flat.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna consider straight bangs, like a bowl cut?” Risu jokes.

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

“Wow, watch your language, Ai-kun. Even sis tries not to use bad words when she’s angry,” Risu says, his face serious now.

Ai wonders if Risu knows Kamiz is mincing her swears specifically because she thinks  _ Risu _ is too young to use those bad words.

After Risu has untied the hairdressing cloth and dusted any stray hairs from Ai’s shoulders, he examines his reflection. A few months ago, he wouldn’t have been able to recognise the fit young man there, standing firm with a resolute look in his dark eyes. Yet, in this moment, he considers two possibilities of what is happening: either he is adapting to someone’s vision of him, or his true self is emerging.

_ Who are you? _

A small hand reaches up to poke Ai’s shoulder. The first attempt lands, but the second and subsequent pokes make contact with empty air.

Ai stares at Kamiz, who smiles and exhales in… what, triumph?

“Look at that. Your reaction speed has improved,” she comments.

The siblings dismantle the temporary hairdressing station and set about making dinner. Ai insists on helping them.

Risu makes a remark about having Kamiz’s cooking skills rub off on Ai. When Ai responds in agreement and implies Risu now has better cooking skills (by virtue of living with Kamiz for longer), Risu is silenced for the rest of dinner-making time.

When Ai sees himself out after the meal, his hosts probably don’t notice he has taken the orange plastic bag filled with freshly-cut magic-user hair.

**…**

As winter settles over Hole, Zaller’s travels to and from the fringe farms become less frequent. There is not much to harvest, and the roads are becoming icy and rough to navigate. He might as well spend this time of year close to home, where his wife Syvia is.

Pulley Tray sees much business on its retail end during this period as well; numerous households and other businesses are making preparations for their respective New Year’s Eve celebrations.

This means Kamiz and Risu have to work a little harder in the absence of longer-time staff who chose to take early holiday leave. To them, however, it wasn’t so bad when they have an efficient yet not-strict manager overseeing them.

Zaller and Syvia thank the siblings for putting up with the main store’s hectic workload. Kamiz thanks the couple in turn for allowing her and Risu to sustain a livelihood in the city. After they exchange seasonal greetings, they head on home.

Pulley Tray will be closed for the week surrounding New Year.

**…**

Ai takes the passenger seat of the taxi. He’s sure the driver is baffled by three young people bringing luggage, travelling to Doctor Kasukabe’s mansion for the festive season.

“Are you sure sensei is fine with us coming to sleep over at his home?” Risu asks.

“I’ve slept in the guest rooms before. He’s okay with it,” Ai replies, but he can’t keep the frown off his face. “Say – do you know why the Hole militia and other ordinary people prefer to stay away from that mansion?”

“Why?” Kamiz prompts, maintaining a neutral façade since the taxi driver could see her face from the rear-view mirror. The problem with talking among strangers is not knowing where they stand with regards to the self-proclaimed enforcers of law.

“You know the Doctor does research on magic-user corpses. The thing is, most of those bodies still have smoke residue, so those accumulate as dust in his mansion,” Ai explains.

“That does sound unhealthy,” Kamiz remarks.

“That’s not the worst of it,” Ai continues. “The dust from magic-user smoke warps any physical space if left unchecked for too long.”

He does not want to scare the siblings with what he had seen, but the taxi driver has picked up on their chatter.

“That’s right. Sometimes when I wait in front of the mansion long enough, I could see ghosts peeping at me from the rooftops!” the bearded man supplies.

Ai crosses his arms despite himself. There is a reason he doesn’t like sleeping over at the Kasukabe mansion, even if he has survived those nights thus far.

In the back seat, Risu’s expression seems tied between incredulity and unease. Kamiz smirks and puts on the air of a smug sceptic.

“Ghosts, huh? I’m a person of science. I’ll believe it when I see it,” she proclaims.

The three youngsters part with the taxi driver and haul their luggage to the doorstep. Doctor Kasukabe greets them and leads them to the spare room where guests can set up their futons when they are ready to sleep. For now, the guests leave their bags and hang up their coats.

Kasukabe is among those who stocked up on groceries prior to the week-long closure of shops all around Hole. He is becoming accustomed to having Kamiz, Risu, and even Ai helping in the kitchen. For today, he directs them on what to cook, and how; Kamiz is not familiar with the local New Year dishes.

While they are busy preparing food, there are no ghosts in Ai’s sight. Perhaps Kasukabe has spring-cleaned the mansion in anticipation of the young guests… Or perhaps the ghosts just want to embarrass Ai in front of the siblings.

**…**

The dishes have been laid out atop the kotatsu. A tired Kamiz gratefully rests her cold feet underneath the electrically-heated table. While she, Risu, Ai, and Kasukabe wait for the clock to strike midnight, they try to keep the conversation casual without delving too deep into any shop talk.

That barely lasts fifteen minutes, of course. When they have a little under an hour to go to midnight, Risu has trouble keeping his eyes open.

“Risu, wanna tell them about the thing?” Kamiz asks.

The sharp-toothed, growing child straightens up at her words. “You mean I can present it this time?”

“I’ve taught it to you before. You understand how it works, and you can now tell them.” The smile reached Kamiz’s eyes when she spoke those words.

“Alright – it’s  _ my _ turn to be the specialist!” Risu declares.

Kasukabe smiles at the siblings. “Did you two find something interesting?”

Risu beams at the doctor and Ai as he begins his explanation.

“Kamiz-neesan has been collecting and filtering rainwater at our balcony. After the separation, she uses the water for the plants, or purifies it before using it for washing.”

“I see. So when the water is taken out, what was left of the rain?” Kasukabe encourages him to continue.

“There’s magic smoke residue, right? That’s why we see thin black dust falling when it rains,” Ai adds.

Risu glances at Kamiz. “Well, the substance is more like sludge than it is smoke or dust. It doesn’t do any harm to plants, but we haven’t found any nutritional value in it either.”

Kamiz softly claps, her expression full of pride in her adoptive younger brother.

“By the way, we brought a small bag of the sludge along – not in person, of course, but it’s in our luggage, and we can deal with that  _ after _ we’ve eaten,” she continues.

Reminded of the dinner before them, Ai turns his cap around. He usually keeps the bill out of his face when eating hot, steaming food. It still feels strange to not have hair crowding over his eyes.

“Let me see if I understand this: you’ve collected rainwater and extracted its useful part, which is the water. But then you stored the part that is harmful to you, and brought it for further study,” he states, eyeing Kamiz and Risu.

Kamiz shrugs. “We want to see if it’s also bad for humans, or just sorcerers.”

Ai sighs and shakes his head. This owl’s self-destructive tendencies are still trickling down to her smallest actions. He hopes those tendencies will not rub off on Risu.

**…**

With the tolling of the clock come formal well-wishes all around. They enjoy their feast: the culmination of four people sharing their knowledge and hard work.

In the presence of minors and a teetotal owl, Kasukabe excluded rice wine from the celebratory feast. Instead, after he makes a heartfelt speech wishing for continued peaceful coexistence among the four of them, they raise their mugs of jasmine green tea and drink from them.

“Do each of us have to make speeches and we drink to that?” Risu whispers to Kamiz.

“Only if we have something significant to say. Which reminds me…” she trails off.

“Ooh, right.”

Sometimes Ai wishes the siblings aren’t so damn vague with their insider communications. Still, at least he can tell that Kamiz is getting ready to say something.

“If I could get everyone’s attention – there’s something I wanted to say,” Kamiz speaks softly. She carefully holds her mug so that its heat does not burn the skin of her fingers all at once.

Risu is already nodding in encouragement. Ai resumes stuffing his face, but gives Kamiz his attention nonetheless.

“Go ahead, Kamiz-kun,” Kasukabe prompts.

“I considered myself saved when I met Risu, when he suggested that I take him to live with me in Hole for good. But since we began staying here, our lives became brighter and safer thanks to you, Ai-kun. On top of that, you brought us to meet Kasukabe-sensei, and we found a lost connection through his wife Haru.”

Ai puts down his chopsticks then. At the mention of Haru, Kasukabe reaches for his box of cigarettes, but hesitates. Kamiz has not finished her speech.

“There are many good humans in Hole, but you two are the only ones who know about Risu and I being sorcerers. So we’ve been thinking: since you both are fascinated by sorcerers, we can take you to visit the sorcerer world for a day at least.”

Two pairs of eyes widen at those words. For more than a few seconds, no one said anything.

Ai examines Risu, who does not seem at all surprised by the announcement.

_ So this is what they’ve had in mind? _

“Oh, right. I probably should’ve made that invitation after the toast.”

Kamiz awkwardly raises her mug. Risu also raises his, placing it next to hers. They are joined by Kasukabe and Ai, who is still having trouble believing his ears.

“So – here’s to our future adventures, whether in Hole or in the sorcerer world.”

“Cheers!”

Ai vaguely feels himself following the others’ enthusiastic shouts. The warm tea makes it down his throat, but even after putting his mug down, his mind’s eye is still elsewhere.

An expanse of buildings varying in height, shape, and material. Greenery cropping up in tasteful places. Pictures he has only seen in books he found on Kamiz’s or Kasukabe’s shelves.

“The sorcerer world,” Ai breathes out.

Risu slaps him on the back. “Yeah, like she said.” He pauses. “Like you wanted… right?”

“I would’ve wanted to go as a sorcerer, but –” Ai manages a small smile, “– a peek into the other side won’t hurt.”

“Think of it as a trial run. It’s for you to see what the place is like before you decide to move there,” Kamiz points out.

“I’m all for discoveries and adventures, but there is something else to consider,” Kasukabe reminds the youngsters. “Kamiz-kun might be hunted down by her mother, and Risu-kun will be targeted if sorcerers find out he cannot produce smoke.”

His round-spectacled gaze falls on Ai.

_ That’s right – my circumstances would be the same as Risu’s if I go to the magic-user world as I currently am. _

Kamiz and Risu glance at each other, and they nod at the same time.

“Not if we’re all in disguise, especially if we have weapons to back us up,” Kamiz responds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pardon the filler-ish chapter. **No, I haven’t** eaten any meat pie off the ground, but my stomach has been doing a Blue Night Ebisu since a recent Thursday. Combined with a new semester of classes starting soon, updates just have to happen slowly, including the upcoming “Ai in Wonderland”.


	12. Ai in Wonderland

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for violence during the fight scene, and an owl with post-traumatic stress.  
> Beta'd by [DarkrystalSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky)

**.....**

After the most basic of breakfasts, the two sorcerers and two humans change into attire supposedly worthy of the magic-user world.

Kasukabe is in his usual clothes minus the doctor’s coat. For the magic-user look, he dons on gloves and a tactical mask which has rabbit ears attached.

Ai has a plain ensemble of black top, brown trousers, and his best shoes. He will have a black cap worn backwards, with goggles and a surgical mask to hide his face.

Kamiz’s outfit is a denim shirt over her Haru tee and dark jeans. Her ski mask is embroidered with an owl design, and she wears a pair of boots.

Risu’s costume is a button-up shirt with faded jeans and sneakers, accessorised with gloves and a neck bandanna. His sorcerer disguise is a wide-brimmed hat worn over a papier maché helmet of a horse skull with canines.

“Let me see what you have,” Kamiz says to Ai.

“What?”

“To defend yourself with.”

“Oh.”

Truth be told, Ai has not settled on what weapon to carry. He takes a look around for ideas.

Risu attaches some leather loops around his legs, and fills the slots with wooden stakes. “It might be easier for us to find our ideal weapons in the sorcerer world. I can’t explain to Zaller or Syvia why I want to take large metal spikes home,” he adds.

Ai looks at Kasukabe. The doctor has a pack filled with Kamiz’s smoke bottles, sludge-and-pebble cloth balls, and medical supplies. For close quarters combat, he also has a baton hanging from a belt loop.

“I think I’ll also try to find better weapons in the sorcerer world. For now, I’ll carry another first-aid kit just in case, and…” Ai turns to Kasukabe. “Can I borrow one of your kitchen knives?”

“Well, make sure you can store it on your person, and that you can wield it quickly,” Kasukabe tells him.

Ai cannot see if Kamiz’s face sports either approval or ridicule, but she nods after he returns from Kasukabe’s kitchen with a safely-wrapped knife in hand.

“That should be good.”

As for herself, Kamiz buckles on elbow- and knee-pads modified to have jagged metal plating. She has a front pouch containing her essentials and a mostly-empty backpack to fill with souvenirs. Kasukabe has a fillable suitcase for the latter purpose as well.

“In case something happens to Kamiz-kun, I also have a spray can containing the smoke sorcerers use to create doors,” he informs the youngsters.

Kamiz makes a quick count of the money pooled between herself, Risu, Ai, and Kasukabe.

“It’ll be a day trip, and these should be enough to cover food, entertainment, and lots of souvenirs. When we arrive, we’ll go to a moneychanger first,” she instructs the others.

“Wait, sis. Your name.” Risu softly touches her arm. “You won’t get found out, will you?”

“Not if I take on a more common-sounding sorcerer name. While we’re on the other side, call me Fukurou.”

“Um…”

The three other masked individuals turn to look at Ai.

“You all have plausible sorcerer-sounding names. But what about me?” he asks.

“I would say ‘Ai’ is a plausible-enough sorcerer name,” Kamiz says.

“Are you sure?”

Risu places his hands on his waist.

“If you really want a different-sounding name, how about ‘Aikawa’? You liked standing in the rain and letting water run through you, so you might as well be a river,” he suggests.

Ai dashes toward Risu to try and get him into a headlock, but misses. Risu hops away with long, light steps. Eventually Ai corners him, and the two of them grapple using strong hands.

“Oi, I worked hard on this helmet – don’t you dare ruin it!” Risu warns him.

“It’s not a helmet when you make it so brittle, dumbass.”

Kasukabe chuckles awkwardly as the boys continue to tussle.

“Well, ‘Aikawa’ sounds good to me,” Kamiz calls for their attention.

Ai stops then, which allows Risu to turn his cap around and pull the bill over his eyes. Ai hears Kamiz’s heavy sigh; shortly after, he can feel Risu being lifted off of him.

He accepts Kasukabe’s steady hand of support. In front of a nearby mirror, he readjusts his appearance while keeping a wary distance from Risu.

Ai follows the direction the horse skull mask is facing: Kamiz, or rather, Fukurou.

_ Despite what she said last night, she  _ is _ afraid to get caught by her mother, isn’t she? _

He watches her unmoving posture, the set of her shoulders.

_ Or is this something she becomes when she knows she has to face other sorcerers? _

“Get ready, nerds. We’re going to the magic-users’ world.”

**…**

This is not Fukurou’s or Risu’s first time seeing the door of night-view plains, bordered by tree trunk and branches. Fukurou can tell, however, that Kasukabe and Aikawa are captivated by the door that forms out of her magic smoke.

She turns the handle and steps through first; past the threshold is the sorcerer world capital. She waits for Aikawa, Risu, and Kasukabe to join her before letting the door close and fade into dust.

Aikawa briefly removes the goggles from his eyes, taking some time to visually capture his surroundings.

“It’s not even fully light, but the sky is so…  _ blue _ ,” he exclaims. He reluctantly puts his goggles back on for disguise.

_ Child, how I wish the worlds would be kinder to you _ , Fukurou keeps her thoughts quiet.

“Alright, so this is basically the city centre for sorcerers in this world. There is something for everyone here, but it’s best for us that we go to places that  _ don’t _ require knowing patrons’ smoke output,” she explains for the hidden humans’ benefit.

Risu nods. “We’re not members of any fancy club, that’s for sure.”

“I suppose we look like a father with three children, travelling out of our remote village to the capital for the first time,” Kasukabe muses.

_ Yeah, that’s not far from the truth _ , Fukurou thinks.  _ In any case, there’s no way I can pass as sensei’s wife. I’m pretty sure I look like the youngest of the kids. _

And yet there she is, trying to keep three men taller than herself moving toward the nearest moneychanger. She understands that Kasukabe and Aikawa are completely new to this place. As for Risu, she guesses he has grown stronger and much more confident since living in Hole; he is seeing a rather different part of the sorcerer world with fresh eyes.

_ Maybe  _ I’m _ the one who hasn’t changed? _ She shakes her head at herself more than anyone.  _ I should probably have more faith in these guys. _

A carpet taxi driver slows down and hovers near the group of four.

“Lovely morning for a carpet ride, don’t you think? I could fly you four around and show some good places to go to,” the driver invites.

Bright young eyes land expectantly on Fukurou, who suppresses an oath. At least Kasukabe has the good sense to not jump in on the driver’s offer.

“We just got back from a jaunt in Hole. Do you take yen?” she asks, more acidly than intended.

“I suppose not…” The driver seems to be inspecting the group more closely. “Well, you have a lovely day now.”

“You, too,” Fukurou responds, more neutrally this time.

Once the carpet taxi driver is out of sight, she picks up walking speed toward the marketplace.

“Kamiz – Fukurou-neesan.” Risu grabs her left forearm and bends down a bit to whisper. “What was that all about?”

“I’d just feel a lot better if we have sorcerer money in hand so we don’t get outed for real. Now shush.”

That is only part of it.  _ She _ is the person who brought two humans and a sorcerer who can’t use smoke to a world that despises them and is highly likely to kill them.

_ If any of them got hurt because I took them here… _

Not soon enough, they arrive at a shaded (and thankfully legitimate) moneychanger. The rates are higher here, but at least Fukurou can confirm that the money is not counterfeit.

“And now, some quick math for equal distribution –”

The moneychanger’s shutters bang closed, and barrier magic defends the kiosk for good. The marketplace’s other stalls either roll down their tarps or just brace for the impending ugly mess.

Five men in expressionless masks surround the four obvious-looking tourists. Two of them draw in from the left, facing Fukurou and Risu, and three flank from the right, closer to Aikawa and Kasukabe.

“You kids look like you’ve got a Hole lotta money!”

A few of them jeer and laugh, not from the bad opening line.

Fukurou splits the bundle of Nik into four equal stacks, and passes one each to Kasukabe, Risu, and Aikawa. She stuffs her own portion under her shirt, secured by the band of her sports bra.

_ This way, they won’t be targeting any one of us specifically. _

A sorcerer on the left shoots smoke at Risu, who dodges with ease. He takes out two wooden stakes and lunges at that sorcerer. Fukurou moves to join him, but Aikawa pulls her down, out of the way from an attack on the right.

One robber on the right has the wind knocked out of him by a sludge ball. Kasukabe throws another cloth-wrapped ball at the next nearest masked man.

Aikawa soon joins the fray on the left to support Risu. That leaves Fukurou to draw the smoke-shooting of one standing sorcerer on the right.

She has to move in order to close the distance, but she is a small target that evades the shots quickly. The sorcerer risks a close blast of low-grade explosion smoke when she stands before him. She drops down and kicks hard at one knee, and then the other.

Fukurou’s opponent is now down on his back. He raises his hands with his palms forward, but she picks him up by the collar and slams her metal-guarded elbow into his face a few times. For good measure, she thrusts a knee into his gut before throwing him back down.

“Fukurou-kun…” Kasukabe wisely refrains from touching her.

She looks up to take stock of her companions. Risu is a bit sweaty in his shirt, but the blood on his remaining wooden stakes (some got turned into feathers) is not his. Aikawa wipes blood off his knife, having won against the other sorcerer on the left and chopping off the man’s fingers. Kasukabe seems to be the least affected by the fight, thanks to the sludge ammunition disabling two entire sorcerers.

_ I really  _ should _ have more faith in them. _

The doctor goes up to the two men downed by the sludge balls, still conscious but unable to move.

“You’ll have to excuse my children. Hole is a nightmare for sorcerers to be in right now,” Kasukabe says with his gloved hands in his trouser pockets.

Before she forgets, Fukurou takes the recently-exchanged Nik out of her shirt and into her wallet. She strides toward the left end to appraise Risu’s and Aikawa’s handiwork; as it is for her opponent, the failed robbers are incapacitated but not dead.

“Good work, bros. Let’s get out of here,” she tells the boys, and starts walking at a fast pace to the marketplace’s nearest exit.

The sun continues to climb into the sorcerer world sky. High in the air, two devils high-five each other.

Fukurou breathes easier when her group arrives at a main street, standing out of the way of walking traffic. There are more ordinary and less desperate magic-users here.

Risu flanks her left, Aikawa her right. There was no need for them to ask her “Are you okay”; they have been wondering that since her disproportionate reaction to the carpet taxi driver.

_ A mother force-feeding her child smoke-producing supplements. Bullies ganging up on a boy who cannot cast smoke. Unsavoury sorcerers finding out there are humans in their midst, and selling the humans as practice targets. _

The last part has not happened yet, but even thinking about the possibility of it makes her sick. Devils save her; she hates this world so much.

_ Is this how Ai felt about Hole? _

Fukurou raises her eyes to the right. “Is this the world you want to live in?” she asks Aikawa.

He takes his cap off to smooth a hand through his hair, and continues wearing it backward. “Who knows? We’ve only been here for an hour.”

_ He gets robbed within an hour of arriving in the sorcerer world and  _ this _ is his reaction? _

Risu places a reassuring hand on her left shoulder.

“I understand you’re worried about us, sis – but we’ll be okay.”

When she says nothing, he moves to wrap his arm over the back of her neck. His right forearm dangles off her right shoulder by his elbow.

“The question is: will  _ you _ be okay?”

Determined not to be left out, Aikawa wraps his left arm around Fukurou’s shoulders as well. He doesn’t seem to mind his limb resting on top of Risu’s.

“Alright, then. I’m not the one who has things to see here, but you guys are. So let’s try finding a map with points of interest at an information centre.”

Fukurou slips out of the boys’ warm hold and turns around. Aikawa manages to prop up Risu before he falls against him. Kasukabe chuckles awkwardly at this sight, but when Fukurou meets his eyes next, the doctor seems relieved.

**…**

With a map in hand and his friends around him, Aikawa is unstoppable.

The sky is blue, the clouds are white and fluffy yet sparse, and there are sorcerers riding on brooms or magic carpets.

Since most of his little group is not yet familiar with this world, they go to the typical popular places to visit in the capital on foot. Where they cannot afford to enter, they roam the exterior and peek inside instead.

Risu is right about there being so much more greenery in this world. There are large open-air parks and entire public gardens. The commercial districts have such a wide array of items and services for sale, it is making Aikawa giddy. Kasukabe occasionally offers up relevant questions, and Fukurou supplies relevant information and helpful reminders.

Aikawa manages to keep from spending all his money first thing in the morning. He would rather make more permanent decisions on a contented stomach.

One of the last sights they watch before lunch is a resplendent structure comprising clean outer walls, beautiful courtyards and fields, and dignified-looking buildings. The sign at the front reads ‘Sytri Academy for Gifted Sorcerers’.

He, Kasukabe, and even Risu climb up a designated vantage point for outsiders to watch the finest young talents in the sorcerer world on display. He is too far away to catch any of the teachers’ words, but he can tell these educators are not typical grumpy teachers. Even the students are active learners in and out of classrooms.

“Does Fukurou have something against school?” Aikawa asks Risu at one point.

“Only this one in particular. She told me a while ago that her three younger sisters are gifted students who study here.” Risu pulls back from the watchtower railing. “I can’t see anyone resembling her from here, but then again, everyone’s wearing masks.”

Risu is the first to go back downstairs and rejoin Fukurou. Kasukabe walks beside Aikawa, always taking in his surroundings, sometimes writing in a medium-sized notepad.

“Yeah, the students look really skilled – but they’re every bit as snobby as I imagined,” Aikawa hears Risu saying to Fukurou.

She lets out an unwomanly cackle. Aikawa smiles; that is more like the owl he befriended.

A little past noon, the four of them stop at a relatively new pie shop. The founder and sole proprietor, Tanba, is a humble man.

His meat pies are the first ‘proper’ food Aikawa tastes in the sorcerer world, and he can already tell the pastries are the best he will ever taste.

Their little group buys a hopefully reasonable number of pies. Before they leave, Fukurou bows at Tanba and wishes him good fortune in his business.

Aikawa, Risu, and Kasukabe gratefully take off their masks and eat the pies at a public park table. Fukurou only has to roll her cloth mask up to nose level in order to eat, but she seems to feel better as well.

The pies definitely help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wonderland adventure is not over yet.


	13. Kneel, Mortals!

**.....**

Well fed and freshened up with their masks back on, the four of them are now perfectly ready to shop to their hearts’ content.

The first things they buy are new weapons. Risu now has four sets of metal stakes complete with loop straps. Aikawa also finds a pair of combat knives that would be more suitable than a kitchen knife for street-fighting situations.

Kasukabe is not looking for weapons (or anything in particular). Fukurou uses this opportunity to take him to a music shop and expose him to more of Haru’s works.

Fukurou herself shops for dry ingredients not ordinarily found in Hole, and later stationeries at a bookstore. Risu stands by her while Kasukabe and Aikawa browse entire shelves of magic education books.

Risu insists on carrying her basket of pens and blank books which, to be fair, is not as heavy as when she was buying from small shops in Hole. He and Fukurou regroup with Aikawa and Kasukabe.

“Are all these necessary for us to read in order to be full-fledged sorcerers?” Aikawa asks.

Fukurou inspects the textbooks, and then arranges them by subject and grade.

“Theory and Practical are the most vital basics, so you can get workbooks in addition to the study text if you’d like. History should give you some background on the world. Particle Physics and Smoke & Commerce need you to be a bit more involved, so I don’t recommend them for you just yet.”

Aikawa looks at Fukurou and the books with such wonder that Risu cannot help giggling.

“And what about you? Don’t you want to learn about _your_ magic?” Aikawa asks Risu.

He falls silent, eyes down. When he looks at Aikawa again, he says: “Not where we live.”

“More importantly, Aikawa, where are you gonna store the books? My shelves look suspicious enough as they are now,” Fukurou remarks.

Aikawa gives Kasukabe a hopeful look. The doctor just chuckles.

“Of course you can store them at my house. I might even borrow them to read, if I have the time,” he exclaims.

Risu hides his personal take on Aikawa’s reaction. But the young man in black does seem happier and livelier in this world, finding awe in the littlest displays of magic.

_It’s a bit different from when I first started living in Hole. What I found and cherished there was the feeling of relative freedom. But here, wearing a mask and pretending I am equal – this feels freeing, too._

He helps pack the spoils of bookstore shopping. Aikawa and Kasukabe have sufficient money for Fukurou to pay the cashier.

_Is this why Fukurou-neesan was all stressed this morning? Was she afraid Aikawa and I would fall in love with a world she hated?_

Risu walks beside Fukurou, to whom Aikawa is already posing questions about magic. Kasukabe brings up the rear and watches out for them, as usual.

The doctor whispers urgently that someone is following their little group. Unable to be subtle about it, Risu turns to see who was on their trail.

_Oh no._

Fukurou, Aikawa, and Kasukabe now also face the stout sorceress in gilded feather mask and jewel-accented evening dress.

“Komimi-chan? Is that my Komimi-chan in the owl mask there?”

Risu remembers that voice from an old nightmare. He moves to obscure Fukurou from the woman’s view while Aikawa steps up to the front.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Aikawa demands.

“Excuse me? How rude! I am Shimono, a member of sorcerer high society. You have no right to talk to me like that.”

She plods on toward the group, her low-heeled shoes clicking on the pavement.

“After spending so many months and hiring overpriced investigators, _this_ is how I find you, Komimi-chan? Talking to some brats about lessons in magic?”

Fukurou peeks out from between Risu and Aikawa.

“I am not your child,” she rasps out in the most masculine voice she can manage.

Even Kasukabe goes to shield Fukurou, his stance more intimidating than Risu has seen before.

“I believe you have the wrong person, madam. Now please leave my children alone,” he warns Shimono.

The sorceress gasps. “You men dare to mob against a lone mother on a search for her child?” she says aloud.

“What an illogical fucking bitch,” Risu hears Fukurou mutter.

Shimono’s flair for the dramatic successfully achieves the desired effect: gathering and cementing the attention of passers-by on the scene.

She blows out smoke from her mouth - not completely covered by the beak of the mask - and they form barriers on three sides surrounding Kasukabe and his ‘children’. When the smoke appears to have disappeared, Kasukabe finds himself backing up against something invisible but solid.

“What’s wrong, family man? Afraid to let your kids fight using smoke like proper sorcerers?” Shimono taunts.

Risu strides forward to face her. His metal stakes are all in their loops, but his gloved fingers twitch in anticipation of drawing something more dangerous.

_It’s true I haven’t tried producing smoke in a while. I wonder if I can succeed here…_

Kasukabe has a hand on his pouch; he may be able to throw a sludge ball if he has a clear shot. Aikawa has his knives out, shielding Fukurou from Shimono’s view and reach.

The sorceress closes the distance to the four with every clicking step. However, one step does not meet pavement but instead takes her into a deep hole that suddenly appeared. Her scream of terror is cut short when the hole – no, the doorway – slams closed.

Risu and Aikawa warily approach the door that suddenly appeared in the ground. The plain-looking magic-user door gradually fades into smoke, but Risu can see a devil’s mark there before it’s gone.

A jacket-wearing devil with antlers poking through a light-coloured hood lands on the pavement near the four.

**“What an ugly scene that gaudy sorceress was making. If you’re wondering where that door led to, it’s a dumping lot outside Mastema.”**

Risu has seen this devil before, but only as pictures on Fukurou’s T-shirts. From the sharp intake of breath behind him, he is sure Kasukabe recognises the devil’s voice the moment she speaks, too.

The antlered devil wearing a striped scarf raises her black-gloved hands.

 **“Now laugh and rejoice, for a devil is a natural force of comedy!”** her voice booms.

Onlookers and bystanders in the area laugh as decreed, and many more cheer and wave at the devil. The watching (and now dispersing) sorcerers seem to have disregarded anything Shimono has said about the four’s inability to use magic.

The devil waves a hand and dissolves the sorceress’s transparent barriers.

 **“Follow me, mortals,”** she commands.

Since early childhood, Risu has no strong feelings or opinions about devils; he hadn’t been worthy of being in one’s presence before. Now that he apparently is, he follows Fukurou’s lead, which is to obey this particular devil.

The antlered devil stops at a thin spot of grass in one of the capital’s fine parks. Satisfied that no other sorcerer is monitoring the group, she turns around to regard them.

**…**

Aikawa is meeting a devil for the first time, and he is in _awe._

He could feel the ground shake when the devil’s cloven feet landed, her booming voice reverberating in his marrow when she spoke. He could see the way many sorcerers just _listened_ to her, without questioning her actions.

He may not be a sorcerer, but there is a particular presence he can feel about her, up this close in her immediate space.

It was in the way she wielded her power so effortlessly. How quickly she could conjure a door, and then negate the magic of an elite sorceress.

_And she has wings!_

In the absence of outsiders, Fukurou kneels before the devil and takes off her mask.

“Haru – my liege.” There is sincere reverence in the owl’s words.

**“My, so subservient! You sure know how to greet a devil.”**

Risu also removes his mask, kneeling beside his sister. She kisses the devil’s offered un-gloved hand, and Risu repeats the mark of respect.

Aikawa awkwardly follows their example. This is not something Fukurou prepared him for. But then again, she must not have expected this to even happen.

Kasukabe needs no prompting to kneel before the devil, remove his mask, and kiss her hand. When his lips leave the coarse skin, the devil’s hand softly tips his face so he will look up at her.

 **“Hello, Haze. I didn’t think you would ever kiss me in this form,”** she whispers.

He gives Haru a warm smile. “You are my wife. I would kiss you in any form you take.”

Aikawa sees Fukurou clutching the mask to her chest at the husband and wife’s affectionate display. Soon she remembers where they all are, and puts the embroidered owl mask back on.

“Haru-sama, can we perhaps talk and rest somewhere private?” she asks the devil.

Risu only puts on his wide-brimmed hat; the horse skull mask had not been kind to his skin.

 **“But of course! Come be guests at my residence,”** Haru invites the four. She conjures a new door and opens it to let Fukurou, Risu, Aikawa, and Kasukabe through before also emerging on the other side.

Aikawa has seen many things on his first day in the sorcerers’ world, but he did not think a devil’s home would be among them.

Wooden fencing encircles the front courtyard and a sprawling residential structure. Beyond the exterior fence is a perpetual storm of smoke, blood, and sometimes bodies.

 _This is not a typical part of the sorcerer world… Is there some sort of hell dimension where devils live?_ Aikawa wonders.

Haru leads the four to put down their masks and luggage in the guest chambers, after which she can guide them around her dwelling. There is a swimming pool in the back, a photography room, a music studio, and a library. The rest of the mansion is laid out similarly to Dr Kasukabe’s house in Hole, complete with a research lab (although this one is not so openly accessible).

“You have an incredible place here, Haru,” Kasukabe remarks when the devil ends her tour in the lounge.

 **“Lovely, isn’t it? That’s why the four of you will be staying here,”** Haru states.

Fukurou sputters, but the words did not make it out properly.

“We originally intended for this to be a day trip,” Risu helpfully speaks for her.

Haru points a finger at her mortal guests.

**“When I say the four of you will be staying here, that is a command!”**

Aikawa and Kasukabe freeze where they stand while Fukurou and Risu kneel to Haru again. The devil regards this scene with glee, and pauses.

 **“What’s one more thing we need to spice it up? Ah, yes.”** Haru points a taloned hand at Kasukabe. **“DEVIL POWER!”**

Fukurou and Risu also raise their heads. Along with Aikawa, they watch the doctor’s age and physique change in the blink of an eye. Haru’s magic ages Kasukabe down to – Aikawa would have to guess it’s the doctor’s mid-thirties.

“Wait, Haru… what just…?” Kasukabe sounds just as confused as they look.

Haru snaps her fingers, and bundles of clothes materialise in Fukurou, Risu, Aikawa, and Kasukabe’s arms.

 **“I’ll let you settle down and freshen up. Dinner will be served at half past seven,”** Haru announces.

Fukurou bows to the devil; Risu and Aikawa just nod. Kasukabe, however, is halted from following his still-younger friends to the guest chambers.

 **“Oh, Haze, you’re obviously staying with** **_me_ ** **, sweetie.”**

**…**

No amount of casual chatter and speculation could satisfy the three younger guests’ curiosity, so they held off questions until dinnertime. Both Ai and Kamiz are bringing notepads.

Much to Risu’s chagrin, even the doctor – emerging through the double doors beside his wife – has writing instruments on hand.

 **“Come sit and eat merrily, mortals. You don’t even need to worry about dirty dishes, because a devil’s magic can clear everything right up,”** Haru tells them.

She sits at the head of the banquet table, with Kasukabe on her right and Kamiz on her left. Risu sits beside Kamiz as usual, and Ai next to Kasukabe.

“Haru, darling, I don’t think I’ve properly introduced these fine lads to you,” Kasukabe begins, but Haru cuts him off with a light laugh.

 **“I don’t see a need for introductions, Haze. I know their every circumstance and life story the moment they’re in my awareness,”** she explains.

“So devils really _do_ know everything,” Ai says softly.

 **“It’s just as your cool sister said,”** Haru affirms before tearing a chunk of steak in half with sharp teeth.

Risu studies Kamiz’s reaction: she is chewing a bread roll right now, but if she wasn’t, he can be quite sure that she is embarrassed.

Soon enough, Risu can feel Ai looking at him. Kamiz also regains her composure then, judging by her academic stare.

She turns toward Haru and asks in the full manner of a student: “What is Risu’s magic, and how can he activate it?”

The devil gives her guests a once-over, and then chuckles. **“Oh, I could tell you where to** **_find_ ** **the answer at least, because giving the answer right away is never** **_fun_ ** **.”**

There it is, another main defining trait of devils. Risu hopes Ai is paying attention to this.

**“Risu-kun’s magic is listed in a Level 3 Magic Theory textbook. Personally, I don’t recommend anyone activating it before he’s matured. His smoke organs are still developing, after all.”**

Haru’s words cling to Risu like smoke particles swimming in his veins: an unalterable truth stating that he is a sorcerer. And the fact that his magic is listed at Level 3? His power must be rare.

Risu continues eating dinner. He is almost afraid to see Kamiz’s reaction to Haru’s answer. But when he glances at her, she is smiling.

“It’s a good thing we bought books up to that level earlier today,” Kamiz remarks.

“There is also something I wish to know,” Ai pipes up in between mouthfuls of meat and potatoes. “Is it possible to turn a human into a sorcerer?”

His question hangs in more than a few seconds of silence. Kasukabe looks from him to Haru and back.

The devil’s glowing eyes, fixated on Ai, dim once. More slowly, the second time.

**“The shortest answer I can give you is: yes, no, and everything in between.”**

_What is that supposed to mean?_ The question is clear on Ai’s face.

**“There is not enough literature or formal documentation on physical experiments on human bodies. Every attempted surgery ended in failure, and it is getting more and more difficult to round up humans from Hole for experiments. Then again, very few sorcerers are keen on the idea of humans suddenly being able to use magic in the first place.”**

Ai puts down his cutlery. His face and body radiate disappointment and despair.

 **“Let me ask you this, Ai-kun: what type of magic do you** **_wish_ ** **to have?”**

The devil’s question shakes him, quite like the way her words profoundly affected Risu earlier.

“I haven’t considered that…” Ai admits.

**“Many born sorcerers have no choice in the power they’re able to use. Even more wish to use their magic in the first place, but have trouble putting out smoke due to biological constraints.”**

Haru affixes Ai with a stern gaze.

**“Make sure you have an answer to that question before you jump into anything drastic, now. You will do anything to protect your friends.”**

Her antlered head moves closer to Ai. Her voice is audible to everyone even though she whispers the last part.

**“Have you ever considered that they would do the same for you?”**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s Haru, everyone!


	14. Walk With Me In Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap between updates; it’s been a busy couple o’ weeks.
> 
> Beta’d by [DarkrystalSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky)

**.....**

True to the kind devil host’s words, the remains of dinner, bones and scraps and stains on the delicate porcelain dishes, disappear in a puff of smoke at her command.

**“My husband and I are not to be disturbed tonight, understand? I trust you to enforce this, Kamiz-kun.”**

“Yes, Haru-sama,” Kamiz replies, bowing deeply.

**“You kids know what’s closer to your chambers, though? The library. Feel free to browse the tomes – although try not to let them bite your faces off.”**

“The books bite?!” Risu asks. Next to him, Ai sports an equally intimidated look.

**“Some of them do. Oh wait, that’s on the Devils-Only wall of books. Anyway, you kids go and have fun now~”**

“Good night!” Kasukabe smiles and waves at the three youngsters before Haru pulls him along.

Kamiz straightens up and turns around, motioning the boys along in the opposite direction.

The three make a stop at the guest chambers to pick up writing materials before moving to their intended destination.

Risu easily recognises the large double-doors from Haru’s brief house tour earlier in the day. When she opened one of the doors to give the guests a glimpse of the book-packed shelves, it swung open easily.

Tonight, Kamiz proves its true mass by having to lean against the door to push it open, feet scraping on the floor in a superhuman feat.

Risu reaches for the light switch, and all of a sudden the flames in the overhead lanterns flick to life. Ai stares at the unbelievable mechanism before stepping through and letting Kamiz close the door behind them.

His sister - on whom he is gaining height - hums from between shelves lined with books on animals. A different section of shelves catches Risu’s eyes more easily: books on plant biology, herbs, and gardening.

The siblings gather tomes of their respective interests and stack them on a polished hardwood table surrounded by stools and comfortable armchairs.

“Where’s Ai-kun?” Risu wonders.

“I’m here.” A strained voice calls for them from the other side of the shelf Kamiz was just perusing.

Ai holds a collection of sorcerer world history and customs books in his left arm. He is currently making an effort to pull a hardcover book on fumigant systems off a high shelf.

Risu hops and snatches the volume out of its spot easily.

Ai gives him a frown, but that disappears when Kamiz helps to support the weight of the books in his left arm.

“Let me carry these to the table while you gather more,” she volunteers.

“They are pretty heavy,” Ai warns her.

Kamiz eyes him for a second, and then yanks the volumes from his arms. She walks away to the table, her back straight even while carrying those heavy books.

Risu laughs in his sister’s ‘smug amusement’ tone. “That’s how strong you can get when you work for a grocery chain,” he states, following close as Ai continues selecting magic smoke-related biology books, and then several editions of Level 3 Magic Theory textbooks.

“You don’t expect to actually read all these tonight, do you?” Risu asks, helping with two books while Ai insists on carrying a total of eight.

“The beauty of libraries is that you can peek into small sections of any book there without having to pay for the whole thing. And if the book you picked up doesn’t have what you’re looking for, you can just set it aside.”

Risu shrugs.  _ This guy must’ve been in a whole lot of libraries. _ He stops in his tracks and blinks after Ai’s now-strong silhouette.  _ Are there libraries in Hole? Or are they more like the Doc’s collection? This place belongs to Haru, at least. _

Ai carefully sets his books down, and pulls up a chair to sit in. Opposite him, Kamiz is already smiling at a book of animals.

Risu goes around to Kamiz’s side. “What is this, a catalogue?” he asks, peeking at some pages she is not reading at the moment.

“Catalogues are for things on the market or for sale. This big book is an encyclopaedia,” she corrects him.

Risu flips through the pages while she continues reading her current ones at an angle. He grins.

“Can I turn the page?”

“What, you found somethin’ interesting?”

Kamiz leans back and allows Risu to turn the glossy pages, laying the book flat and open on a page where a weird-beaked brown bird - ordinarily disguising itself as a stump - has its yellow eyes wide open.

“Look at that. This encyclopaedia is so complete, it even has an entry on you!”

Kamiz frowns at Risu, although it is not because he compared his sister to an ugly bird.

“That’s not even an owl. Potoos like this one are more closely related to nightjars.”

Risu swipes her black-rimmed glasses and holds the frame over the image of the potoo’s face. “But the resemblance is so uncanny!”

Kamiz retrieves her spectacles and pushes the encyclopaedia away.

“Let’s take a look at magical plants as well. Maybe we’ll find some of  _ your _ relatives, huh?” she wonders, ruffling Risu’s uneven hair.

**...**

This library is larger than the one at Kasukabe’s home. With Risu and Kamiz nearby, talking about magical plants, it feels more lively as well.

Ai does not hear as much as feel the buzz coming from the Devils-Only wall Haru mentioned. At some point during the night, his curiosity overrides his sense of caution. He wants to know how sorcerers become devils.

He makes his way toward the source of the buzz. On one end of the library, he can see the section of the wall decorated with spikes, horns, and sharp teeth. He takes one step, another, and then another - but when he arrives within reading distance of the spines, his eyes begin to heat up and water.

Ai shuts his eyes and presses onward, but another problem arises: what book should he try to grab? And would one of them bite him like Haru warned?

He turns around and opens his eyes again, staying put where he stands.

“Kamiz, Risu? Are you able to come to this Devils-Only wall?” he calls out.

“I don’t want to. It sounds like there are flies and mosquitoes swarming over those books,” Risu replies from the reading table.

“And Kamiz?” Ai returns to the table where the siblings are sitting. He has an inkling of what her answer will be.

“I once tried to read a Level 4 Magic Theory book in a foundation school library. The moment I could tell what the letters meant, my head started to spin badly. Next thing I realised, I was on the floor. It was a good thing my glasses didn’t break,” she explains.

“Level 4 Magic Theory?” Ai repeats.

“Yeah. It turns out that level is strictly for devil exam candidates at minimum.” Kamiz glances in the direction of the library door. “I wonder if full-fledged devils still need to consult physical books…”

Magic Theory - of course. Before he can hope to discover how devils function, he needs to know about sorcerers’ basic abilities.

He arranges the Level 3 Magic Theory books by year: most recent, followed by older editions dating as far back as twenty years. He keeps open the pages on summaries of changes to the syllabus. From what he can see, there are no major changes except for reclassifications of categories.

Ai can assume there is nothing too important in the older editions now. He diverts his attention to the most recent edition of Level 3 Magic Theory textbook; this library book is a slightly-used twin to the one he bought at the bookstore. He flips over to the table of contents, which lists down a total of 24 chapters.

“So according to Haru, somewhere in this madness is Risu’s magic,” Ai remarks.

In the Magic Theory syllabus, Level 1 covers from Common (Transformation magic) up to Uncommon (Destructive, Defence, and Physical/Travel) categories.

Level 2 exams cover up to Rare (Summoning and Aural) types, as well as multiple-magic capabilities of certain sorcerers.

Level 3 Magic Theory tests up to Very Rare categories, and unusual variations of Common to Rare magics.

Risu reads the textbook introduction page with a frown. “I barely even remember my Fundamentals of Magic. What kinds of magic are Very Rare?” he asks.

Ai scans the table of contents. Under the Very Rare header, the first few chapters are on Healing and on Null/Dispellation. The next chapter listed is Curse - a subtype of Summoning - followed by other miscellaneous categories that have Very Rare identified subtypes.

“We can’t simply assume Risu’s magic is in the Very Rare category. Haru said it’s in this book, but there are many magic types here that are  _ not _ in Levels 1 and 2,” Kamiz points out.

Ai glances up at her. He has no doubt that she can narrow down Risu’s magic based on Haru’s clues if she really puts her mind, heart, and soul into it. At the moment, however, she appears as uninterested in the answer as her brother is.

“Yeah, the net is too wide. Seeing as I can’t even put out smoke, I won’t even bother looking,” Risu states, covering his mouth when he yawns. “Where’s  _ your _ magic, sis?”

Kamiz points - under the Rare category header - at Aural type. Ai turns to the corresponding page number. It contains a brief summary of Aural-type magic, as well as a wall of text regarding the frustrating debates around the attempt of classifying Aural magic as a singular type.

“I’ve always found this academic argument tedious.  _ I _ thought sound replication was fairly common magic,” Kamiz exclaims. She takes a step back from the table and stretches her arms up to the ceiling.

“Well, it turns out yours is Very Rare.” Risu lightly bumps elbows with her after she rests her arms. “See that header? The textbook says the publishing institute has found only two sorcerers whose magic is perfect sound replication. Only one of them has the secondary magic of creating sound from imagination.”

“Huh. I wonder who that could be,” Kamiz says, her face deadpan, to Risu’s building incredulity.

“That’s you, nerd!”

Risu tries to get Kamiz in a headlock, but she ducks and catches Risu by the knees, sending him tumbling to the floor like an unbalanced potted cactus. She swiftly flees his next catching attempts and hides between some distant shelves before he fully gets back up.

Ai ignores the commotion and uses this time to return to reading the Level 3 Magic Theory textbook. His meticulously-collected books on sorcerer history, customs, and magic-user biology are now forgotten where he and Kamiz left them.

He has read Kamiz’s summary notes before; those gave him a general overview of Level 1 Magic Theory, minus the list of examinable magics. He can probably grasp Level 2 if he studies hard enough. But the sheer number of types and subtypes threaten to overwhelm him.

Haru has a good point. What magic  _ does _ Ai want?

He makes a list of magic types that seem exciting to him, and then starts compiling a different list of magic types that will be useful. He reads from the Level 3 book and writes commentary in addition to relevant notes on magic types.

The siblings settle down when they have had enough banter for the night. Ai is not sure how much time has passed, but the next time he looks up, Risu is nodding off at his seat. Kamiz busies herself sorting leftover books according to their topics - presumably so that Haru will have an easier time placing them back on the shelves later.

“We should go back to our sleeping chambers. It must be late right now,” she tells Ai.

“But I haven’t written down all the notes I want…”

She levels him with a stern look. “Take your books and read them to bed or something. You are  _ not _ gonna sleep in the library.”

“Want me to carry him while you take the books?” Risu volunteers.

“You’re sleepier than I am, squirrel boy,” Ai points out, gathering his writing materials and the library’s Level 3 Magic Theory textbook in his arms.

Kamiz has nothing to borrow from Haru’s collection. She pockets her notepad and pen while Risu and Ai head to the library door.

“For what it’s worth, I think you have what it takes to pass the standard school entrance exams,” she tells Ai.

With the library’s mysterious lights switched off, the three youngsters walk toward their sleeping chambers together. In the shared room, Risu kicks off his shoes and flops face-forward into his bed.

After making sure Risu is tucked in under his blanket, Kamiz removes her glasses and crawls beneath the covers of her own bed. Neither sibling has enough energy to brush their teeth at this time of night.

Ai does not even bother with brushing. He keeps the bedside lamp on so that he can read the Level 3 Magic Theory textbook - at least, until he can no longer keep his eyes open.

**…**

It is the second morning in a row Kamiz awakes in a strange place. The curtains have been drawn since the three youngsters first entered the room. She takes a peek through the window and sees swirls of ash, debris, and dead souls raining down.

Kamiz lets go of the curtain and looks around the guest chamber again. The main sources of illumination at this hour are Ai’s bedside lamp and the digital clock, which shows 8:23AM.

She was not looking forward to wearing yesterday’s clothes again, but she is pleasantly surprised. The clothes she folded yesterday evening are now as clean as if they had been laundered and dried.

She is the first to prepare for the day, followed by Risu and then Ai. Judging by the smell of freshly-brewed coffee and egg-fried bread, she can assume that breakfast is ready.

The three of them leave together for the dining hall. Ai is still carrying the Level 3 Magic Theory textbook along.

“Good morning!” Dr Kasukabe greets the three youngsters, as cheerful as ever.

Kamiz almost doesn’t recognise him before she remembers that Haru used her devil power to change the doctor’s age yesterday.

“Good morning,” Kamiz and Risu respond at about the same time. Ai’s own reply is slightly delayed, but there is a shadow of a smile despite the dark marks below his eyes.

This morning, Haru sits not at the head of the table, but one of the longer sides. This seating position allows her husband to sit right beside her.

Embarrassingly for Kamiz, the boys are making her sit directly opposite the powerful, talented, all-knowing devil. Risu sits to Kamiz’s left, between her and Ai.

The dining table is a mini-buffet of delicious breakfast food varieties: bread, rice, eggs, meat, fruit, and steamed greens.

“Seriously?”

At Risu’s exclamation, Kamiz turns her head and sees the source of Risu’s disbelief.

Ai is using spare empty saucers and cups to hold the corners of the Magic Theory book open. That way, he can resume reading the list of examinable magic types while he loads food onto his plate.

Kamiz just snorts and shakes her head in amusement. She takes a reasonable serving size of croissants, crispy meat strips, scrambled eggs, and steamed vegetables. When she looks up, she notices that Haru is affixing her attention on the strange human who wants to be a sorcerer.

_ And maybe a devil, too. _

**“There is something you should know about sorcerers and the afterlife they end up in, Ai-kun,”** Haru speaks.

This succeeds in peeling Ai’s attention off the book.

**“All sorcerers go to Hell when they die. Are you sure that’s the fate you want for your soul?”**

Kamiz continues to put butter and - with some hesitation - prickly pear jam on her croissant. Is it jam made of prickly pears or pear jam with little needles in it? One can never tell with Devils' sense of humor, but Kamiz is willing to take a risk.

Risu looks between Haru and Ai while cutting up and munching on his breakfast.

Kasukabe watches the interaction between his wife and his protégé over the rim of a teacup.

Ai responds to the devil’s attention with a blank expression.

“Yes, well - I always thought I’d go to Hell anyway. And…” Ai turns his head, his dark eyes warm as they find Risu and Kamiz. “Rather than staying in some lonely human purgatory, I think I’d prefer being in Hell with my best friends when we’re all dead.”

Risu’s wide-eyed stare in Ai’s direction puts Kamiz’s usual owl impressions to shame.

Kasukabe sets his cup down, following this exchange with almost academic interest.

Haru slaps her hands on the fine-clothed table surface and pushes to her cloven feet. The ceiling is too high for her antlers to even brush, but her devilish stature can make even the tallest of mortals feel small.

Kamiz finds herself leaning closer to Risu. On his other side, Ai bears the devil’s gaze with a resolute composure.

A chuckle bubbles up from Haru’s core, and the sound grows into loud yet genuine joyous laughter.

**“That is the most sickeningly sappy thing I have heard this year.”** Haru raises her hands.  **“Oh yes, perfect! I can write a song based on this!”**

A devil-sized quill and writing pad materialise in Haru’s hands. She uses her tail to pull her chair forward when she returns to sit down, and soon she pens some lyrics with visible glee.

Kasukabe lets out a soft laugh and leans lightly against Haru. “For what it’s worth, I’m willing to endure an eternity of hell to be with you, darling.”

**“Oh, Haze!”**

“This is too sweet,” Kamiz whispers. It was not about the prickly pear jam, though.


	15. Looking Glass

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta'd by [DarkrystalSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky)  
> Notepad writing, scribbles, and sketches (viewable in the links) jointly done by author and beta reader.

**.....**

Breakfast continues, and Kamiz is relieved to see Ai is not neglecting his body’s needs. Right now, Risu is almost done cleaning up his own plate.

“Say, since devils know everything, I have a question, Haru-sama,” Risu pipes up.

_Oh?_ Kamiz wipes her mouth and turns to her brother, wondering what he really wants to know.

“Does Ai-kun have a crush on Kamiz-neesan?”

Ai chokes on a mouthful of rice and coughs into a napkin.

Kamiz blinks once at her grinning younger brother and turns away. She does note, however, that Ai is struggling to not just put Risu in a stranglehold. She doesn’t blame him.

Haru barely looks up from her work in progress when she answers: **“What a bold assumption, coming from someone who thinks Ai-kun is pretty cool.”**

“Say what?” Kamiz exclaims, and faces Risu again. This time she rests her elbow on the table and her chin on her knuckles, regarding the two boys with curious amusement.

All things considered, she isn’t really surprised.

Risu freezes up like a squirrel running out of branches to hop onto.

On his other side, Ai puts down his glass of water, copying Kamiz’s relaxed posture - but not without turning his cap around so the bill faces the wrong way.

“Huuuh? You think I’m cool?” Ai stares sidelong at Risu, his eyes almost as narrow as usual.

Risu finally regains the composure to fire back.

“Yeah, you’re cool, alright - like a refrigerator! Have you _seen_ your face? Worst case of resting bitch face I’ve ever seen.”

Kamiz turns her head away in time so her sudden raspberry laugh does not send spit toward Risu’s reddening face.

_‘Looks like the baby squirrel is ready to use grown-up words,’_ she guesses.

“What did you just say, you cactus-headed nerd?” Ai demands, his indignant frown back in full force.

Risu stands up, pushing his chair back.

“Oh, you can’t understand me because I don't speak smartass? Lemme put it in another way.”

Risu whips Ai’s cap off his head and puts it on, the bill facing forward and shading his eyes. He steps away from the dining table and adopts an exaggerated slouching stance. He lowers his eyelids by more than half, and sticks out his lower lip in a pout.

In an all-serious no-fun dull tone, he speaks: “I’m Ai Coleman. I like to read too many books at the same time, and I think Kamiz-san is the most awesome sorcerer in all the worlds.”

Throughout his attempted comical impression, he fails to notice the real Ai creeping up behind him.

Kamiz cannot help but be impressed at Ai executing a chokehold followed instantly by a lower body takedown.

_‘Damn. I hope their stomachs will be okay,’_ she muses.

“Ah, youth,” Kasukabe exclaims with a light chortle.

Beside him, Haru glances up at the fighting boys, shrugs, and resumes writing lyrics.

Risu is fighting valiantly to break out of Ai’s hold, but Ai is too well in a prepared position. Meeting the older boy’s eyes, Kamiz nods firmly and gives him two thumbs up.

Unfortunately, that became a distraction - just enough for Risu to lash his arms out and twist around. Now the boys can begin grappling in earnest.

**“How about it, Kamiz-kun? Would you still like to hear the answer to your brother’s question?”** Haru whispers.

“Thank you, Haru-sama, but no,” Kamiz politely refuses.

Ai is still a growing teenager. Feelings are hard to figure out at that age. Besides, she doesn’t want to ruin Risu’s chances with Ai.

“There is _one_ thing I am curious about, my liege.” She turns to face the Devil. “Is my mother still alive?”

Haru stares down at Kamiz, unreadable, then she sets her quill and writing pad - closed, so no one can read the lyrics she wrote - down on the empty chair at the head of the dining table.

“I’ll leave it to you to let the others know,” she speaks in a low voice.

“Huh?” Kamiz and Kasukabe exclaim at the same time.

Risu gets to his feet first, brushing himself with a cap that does not belong to him.

Haru wraps her big clawed hand around Kamiz’s head, covering her eyes entirely. Later, the others will say only a couple of seconds have passed - but in that instant Kamiz can experience a fraction of a Devil’s omniscience to see what happened to her mother.

_A familiar vision plays out. Kamiz feels like she’s flying above and simultaneously looking at the scene through every passersby’s eyes. Shimono struts confidently toward the bunny-eared doctor, tiny owl, and two brave boys. Step after clicking step resounds in the plaza - and then the devil’s spike-decorated Door replaces the pavement in the blink of an eye._

_When both of Shimono’s shoes reach the centre of the Door, it swings open. There is a startled yet terrified scream. Instead of hearing it stop short, however, this time Kamiz can hear the rest of it, following the sorceress down, almost as if she’s falling alongside her._

_An uneven pile of cardboard boxes slows her sudden descent. Kamiz can see the woman rolling down, her momentum stopped by a safe bump against a stained, moldy mattress._

_Though mostly intact, Shimono still cries in pain. Complaining all the time as she reaches for a steady support, unable to stand up without having to help herself with her hands. She manages to get to her feet, trying to avoid slipping on overstuffed garbage bags._

_The view skips most of Shimono’s muttered complaints while she navigates solid yet dirty ground and finds her way out. She shouts at the landfill workers to show her to the nearest carpet taxi stand. The one unlucky driver who happened to be in the area demanded to be paid extra to transport a dirt-smeared and foul-smelling elite sorceress to a spare house near Zagan._

_Of course she would hide there. It would have been emotionally damaging if she were to show up at her husband and school-going daughters’ house in the capital - covered up in filth from hair to toe._

_After scrubbing herself clean, she waddles to the room she used to barge into, so many times, in years past. It is mostly empty now: when its rightful occupant left - without even so much as a goodbye note - Shimono sold or disposed of all its remaining contents._

_The only object she dared not touch was a simple and supposedly “cute” altar to a musical devil. Oh, how she wishes she could hurl the structure - holding up old used headphones, decorated with silly crayon-drawn pictures and symbols - against the opposite wall. However, she would be charged with blasphemy if she showed so blatant disrespect to the devil who watched over her second-born daughter so closely._

_Shimono leaves the ungrateful girl’s room relatively untouched. For now._

**...**

After the meal is over, Haru’s abilities leave the dining hall spotless once again.

Even the Level 3 Magic Theory textbook Ai had been trying to read disappears. It’s probably back on its shelf in the devil’s library. Still, it’s alright; there is a textbook of that same edition still wrapped in plastic, and that copy rests in Kasukabe’s luggage bag.

**“I am so sorry our fun has to end. Even a Devil has serious matters to attend to, you know,”** Haru says while she escorts the two humans and two sorcerers to their guest chamber. **“Torturing the souls of the dead, for example. Let’s see what you need. Convert money...”** Ai feels his wallet burn for half a second and when he checks all his money has been turned into Hole’s currency again. **“...proper age...”** Haru continues and Dr. Kasukabe is back to being a man in his fifties, **“...and souvenirs!”**

Four T-shirts of a design Ai hasn’t seen at band merch stores yesterday appear over the heads of the devil’s audience. Kamiz bows graciously, letting the T-shirt fall into her hands. When she straightens up, there is clear joy on her face.

Kasukabe folds the T-shirt meant for him in a not-as-quirky manner, but the joy he expresses is no less radiant than Kamiz’s.

“Thank you, Haru,” he says. He looks up at his wife with cheerful eyes. “While I appreciate looking my age once again, it sure was nice not to have lower back pains.”

Haru’s head briefly draws closer to her husband’s face, and she straightens up again.

**“I know just the thing for you to use when you can’t take the pain anymore.”**

_‘That sounds ominous,’_ Ai thinks.

Haru reaches for a spot behind her neck. There is a sound of flesh rending, followed by a squish. She presents to Kasukabe a bottle of black smoke.

_‘The bottle is larger than those I usually gave to Kamiz to make sound-grenades.’_

“And what would this be?” Kasukabe wonders.

**“A bottle of** **_my_ ** **smoke, of course. I decided to give you a little extra, so you can play around with a small sample before testing the rest,”** Haru explains.

The doctor laughs merrily. “Just like old times.”

Ai smiles. This display of affection almost makes him forget what the devil said about Risu and him.

Haru claps a taloned hand on Kamiz’s shoulder.

**“I will remember your deeds, my loyal fan. Now pack up, and bring your new family home and safe.”**

The devil casts a Door for the four, a tall construct with metallic spikes along the top and chains hanging down the sides.

That reminds Ai: they are still in this Hell-realm. No offence to Kamiz, but he has more faith in a devil’s ability to return them to the sorcerers’ world of the living.

Haru herself steps out of her mansion’s front door, and flies off to the edge of her residence grounds.

Ai helps the others pack their luggage and personal possessions. When they are all finished, they put on their shoes and masks. They turn the lever door handle, and step through Haru’s Door into a world of warm sunlight and air that smells like freshly cut grass.

The four of them are back at Kesbeel Park in the capital - their last location before they accepted Haru’s invitation into her home. Ai smiles unreservedly behind his mask; the others cannot see his mouth, but they can see the twinkle in his eyes through his goggles.

Kamiz points her right fingers forward, conjuring the door that will take them back to Hole. She opens it and allows Kasukabe to pass through first. Risu goes next, helping to pick up the wheeled luggage bag behind Kasukabe.

The owl-masked sorceress’s posture tenses up. She turns and stares at an empty park bench. Then she shakes her head and goes to face Ai.

“Let’s go back to Hole, Ai-kun,” she says.

Ai feels every muscle of his body protesting, not wanting him to return to the dreary world of humans and filthy smog. Part of him wants to turn around and run, stay here for the rest of his life.

Risu reaches through the threshold of the branches-bordered door and takes one of Ai’s hands. Kamiz gently clasps the other.

“We can always come back,” she states.

“Do you trust us?” Risu asks Ai. The paper skull mask hides his face and most of his eyes, but his hold is warm and loving.

These sorcerers trusted Ai and let him into their lives. Far more than a peek, they were open with sharing their knowledge, companionship, and kindness.

Ai looks at Risu - on the other side, Kasukabe and further research await him. He turns to look at Kamiz, sorcerer world in the backdrop. Somewhere in the related worlds is Haru, doing whatever she does.

Ai turns to Risu and nods. “I do.”

_‘I have to.’_

He allows the siblings to usher him past the night-plains door into the interior side of the closed front doors at Dr Kasukabe’s mansion.

**...**

Kasukabe puts away his luggage bag once its contents have all been unpacked. There is a tall pile of books for him to arrange in his personal library - that is, when he is done tending to the rest of his house.

For now, Ai will bring Level 1 textbooks for Magic Theory and Practical Magics back to his apartment. Kasukabe will store the books relating to Sorcerer world history and culture. There is also that bottle of Haru’s smoke in his gory research lab.

Ai is normally curious about the workings of sorcerers’ smoke. However, considering that Haru is a devil, he may be better off sticking to the books.

He, Risu, and Kamiz pack up other items they might have left in the mansion guest chambers during New Year’s Eve - prior to the siblings’ surprise trip. They do not take long changing into attire more befitting of humans living in Hole.

“Thank you for the New Year trip, Kamiz, Risu. It’s been fun, probably even life-changing,” Kasukabe says to the sorcerer siblings.

“We’re glad you enjoyed the tour,” Kamiz responds with a smile and a nod.

“What about you, Ai-kun? I hope the visit to the magic-user world was illuminating for you.”

“It definitely was,” Ai says to Kasukabe. He cannot see it for himself, but the doctor might say there is a sparkle in his eyes, filled with more life than before.

He slowly turns his head to peek at Kamiz, uncertain what went through her head in reaction to Haru’s statement. Again, he internally curses Risu for bringing up the question of whether he had a crush on the sorceress.

“Shall I call for a taxi to send you kids home?” Kasukabe offers, breaking an awkward silence that the siblings had not felt.

“Please do,” Risu says with a little nod.

“Speaking of which, we should exchange numbers so we can arrange for our next trip together,” Kamiz adds.

Kasukabe, warm and considerate. Risu, funny and helpful. Kamiz, gentle and reliable.

Ai has never been more glad to know these people.

**...**

It is only the middle of the day, but by the time they arrive at their apartment complex gates, Ai can feel the impact of the past two days setting in as a sore numbness pervading his limbs.

“Want to join us for lunch?” Kamiz calls for him while heading for the siblings’ apartment door.

“Not this time,” Ai replies. He glances up in the direction of his home - his grandfather’s apartment room. “I have… things to sort out.”

Kamiz nods, a soft smile on her lips. “Take your time, Ai. We’ll always be here for you.”

Before they part ways, Ai tests the heft of Risu’s backpack; nope, it’s not light after all. The tall brat pouts at Ai, a parody of an offended look, before tailing his sister and waving Ai farewell.

Upstairs, Ai leaves his luggage in his bedroom and sets about making lunch. Risu ‘taught’ him how to make a delicious plate of omurice. Having occasionally shopped for groceries at Pulley Tray, Ai did manage to get fresher ingredients in recent months.

Every now and then, he finds himself hanging his head or slouching his shoulders. Shortly after, he remembers that Risu has cut his hair short; he cannot hide behind his dark locks anymore. He also imagines the siblings going “Is that how you think a sorcerer stands?” at his slumped posture.

Ai eats his lunch, cleans up dishes and cooking utensils, and sinks into the old, worn couch. The wooden seat frame creaks alarmingly at the sudden weight.

_‘Better not break it…’_

Ai shuffles to the study table in his room. His stacks of books and notes are overall more organised than Kamiz’s, as far as he can remember. It won’t be a problem for him to add more.

He takes out the notepad Kamiz gave him on their second meeting. The pad is running out of pages, but he can jot a few more notes before starting to fill in a new blank book.

[[Notepad Page 1](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/755715546422444033/772508329024028672/Discord_20201012_180124_001.jpg) | [Notepad Page 2](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/755715546422444033/772508331842732042/Discord_20201012_181301.jpg)]

Many things have happened between New Year’s Eve and just this morning. These notes may help him make sense of it all when he goes back to them.

He hides his Level 1 Magic Theory and Practical Magics textbooks in a low drawer of his study table.

He unrolls a futon and lies down. His breathing slows, and he barely feels his eyelids close.

**...**

_Quiet. It is dark and quiet here, and he likes it. Better than the dust and filth, the incessant noise of a city that would not care if he was gone._

_But he will not be in the dark forever. A door of branches and twigs surrounding green plains at night opens before him. He steps through, and a gloved hand takes hold of his._

_“Aikawa, hurry up or we’ll be late for class!”_

_That’s right. He and Risu are students at this foundational-level magic training school._

_The owl-masked teacher in a formal suit - and Haru T-shirt underneath - sighs lightly._

_“Morning, teach!” Aikawa and Risu bow as they greet their teacher at the same time._

_“I haven’t had breakfast. Is it okay if I eat in class?” Aikawa asks with a sheepish grin._

_“As long as you’re not disturbing others, it’s fine. Now,” the small teacher pauses, waiting for the boys to take their seats, “who’s ready for a Level 2 pop quiz?”_

**...**

_The next thing he sees is a view from between the fluffy white clouds and green-scattered ground. His arms encircle the slim waist of a growing young man, and his legs grip tightly on the sides of the broom._

_“You’re doing well, Risu! Next will be Aikawa’s turn,” Fukurou’s voice calls from the left._

_Before Aikawa can see what type of broom (or carpet?) Fukurou is riding, the presence to his right calls for his attention. The scarf-wearing, antlered devil Haru is carrying Dr Kasukabe in her arms as she glides over the buildings and greenery of this world._

**...**

A number of other dreams visit Ai in his afternoon nap. Brief dreams, but each so beautiful, he almost doesn’t want to wake up from them.The evening sleet wakes him up, though. For better or worse, right now, this is his world. At least his favourite people live here.

He goes to the bathroom sink to wash his face and brush his teeth, getting a brief shock from looking up before realising that is his face. He keeps having to remember this is how he looks now. The face underneath his sorcerer’s mask.

Ai treads softly to the living room and dials a number he memorised on the old landline phone on the wall. While waiting for the other side to pick up, he gazes out the apartment window at the block across from his. A familiar sight - one that gives him hope for fulfillment.

“Hello?”

“Kamiz-kun, it’s Ai.” Icy rain occasionally rattles the apartment canopies and metal roofs. “How are you and Risu? Is the rain hurting you?”

“Y’know what? It actually doesn’t.” She sounds like a surprised scientist. “It seems snow and hail are different from Hole’s usual sludge rains.”

Ai smiles. No wonder she is a teacher in his dreams.

“What about you, Ai-kun? You sound a little tired.”

He wonders if she is looking out her window, back across at him.

“I just woke up from a nap. I fell asleep after lunch.”

Kamiz laughs on the other end. “That’s a pretty good way to spend a bad-weather day. Risu is also sleeping right now, but I’ll have to wake him up for dinner.”

This world is Ai’s reality. But the fact that the siblings are sorcerers - _that_ is also real. The world they come from, as fantastic as it may seem, is completely real.

“Say, Kamiz?”

“Yeah?”

“Can we go to the sorcerer world again soon?”

After a tense two seconds of silence, Ai hears a short, warm laugh over the phone.

“Of course we can.” He can just imagine her face when her voice turns somewhat more serious. “The New Year holidays are ending soon, and work will keep us busy. But we’ll find the time, or even _make_ time for future trips.”

Ai smiles, seeing the door of branches and night plains in his mind again.

“I look forward to it. Thanks, Kamiz-kun.”

**...**

The road has been long and the spoils measly, but he’s been able to support himself the whole way.

Steam billows out his nostrils in the frigid air of the city. He walks past the front gate, headed for the left-hand block, and presses the elevator button. After so many months sleeping in temporary lodgings, nothing beats home, really. Even if home is as much of a dump as most of the other places.

He follows the corridor path to a place decorated with a few pots of plants and reaches for the door handle…


	16. Young Sprouts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta’d by [DarkrystalSky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkrystalSky/pseuds/DarkrystalSky). Also, they have commissioned art of this fic! <3

**.....**

**1989**

Pulley Tray is one of the first businesses in Central Hole to reopen following the New Year holidays. That means Kamiz and Risu – with seemingly fewer commitments and obligations compared to older adults working at the grocery chain - find themselves returning to routine early on.

Matching ledger entries, performing stock counts, receiving produce from the fringe, and sorting goods for delivery… The city needs people like them to help keep households’ and other businesses’ pantries stocked on time.

On a late Sunday afternoon, the siblings find Ai waiting for them outside the Pulley Tray main store.

“Must be nice, not having to work on a Sunday,” Risu exclaims, zipping up his outer coat against the weather.

Ai shrugs. “There are fewer patients, this time of year. Incidentally, there’s fewer militia patrols as well.”

“Heh – wimpy sorcerers are scared of a little frost falling from the skies,” Kamiz scoffs.

Risu chokes out a quiet laugh at that. Passing off as human around Hole has become second nature to the siblings.

“Then again, it’s good that the cold is keeping those victimisers away,” Kamiz resumes on a more sincere note.

“No rain means no snow, right? Do you have cold months, at least?” Ai wonders, keeping his hands warm in his coat pocket.

Kamiz blinks against the dry air, scanning the bleak cityscape. “I’d say no; the heat of Hell keeps the ground warm.”

“So, Sorcerers suffer from the cold. Maybe we should start using snowballs against them.”

...

Regardless of whatever sentiments are spoken aloud, Hole’s cold weather bears down equally on humans and sorcerers alike. That said, the apartment complex is better than the streets below, and Kamiz’s apartment room is better than the corridors.

Behind the closed front door – even before Kamiz switches the heater on – Ai can feel the heat in the homey area warming him up.

Kamiz goes to put away her things in the main bedroom where she stays, but Risu hangs up his coat and places his wallet and keys on the dining table. Ai leaves his own coat atop the back of the dining chair he usually sits in.

Risu picks up a marker pen from the living room study desk, and proceeds to stand as straight as he can against the frame of the second bedroom door. He flattens down the hair at the top of his head and draws the position of that height with the marker.

“Sis, look! I'm a bit taller than before.”

“ _Again_ ?” Kamiz emerges from her room and takes a look at the [door frame](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/755715546422444033/785917914712506408/image0.png), almost immediately afterwards she sighs and slumps her shoulders. “I can’t believe this…”

Ai goes to stand near the two. From what he can read on the door frame, there are fine marks in black, dated as far back as early August 1988. Those horizontal marks denote the progression of Risu’s height, which sped up in September of that year.

Below the latest black marker notch is a thick red line – no, wait, a series of red marker pen lines. They measured Kamiz’s barely-varying, presumably stagnant height.

In this room, with shoes off and standing this close, Ai can see that Risu’s eye level is approaching Ai’s own.

“When did you get so tall, cactus boy?”

Risu huffs out a laugh at the incredulous remark. “Watch out, Ai-kun. I might just surpass you this year.”

“That’s never gonna happen.”

“Before anyone does any surpassing, how about helping to pass me my instruments from the living room corner?” Kamiz’s voice calls out, having disappeared into her room once again at some point.

“Right-o,” Risu makes a show of hefting the two instrument cases. Kamiz flits into the secondary bedroom and takes some of the smaller training equipment with her, setting them down by the writing desk.

“I seem to have stumbled in on something here…” Ai mutters.

“Sorry for leaving you out of the loop. Baby squirrel here is big enough to sleep in his own room now,” Kamiz explains, gesturing at the doorway of the former training room.

It is fortuitous to the siblings that Ai visits them today; Kamiz and Risu are strong enough to move the heavy bag stand by themselves. However, with Ai around, they can do it more quickly, and leave fewer scratches on the floor.

“Thanks for lending us your strength, Ai-kun. The former Instrument Corner is now the Training Corner,” Kamiz announces.

“Now to move my clothes and stuff into the second bedroom cabinets,” Risu continues.

Ai does not mention it, but - up until the last time he visited this apartment, there has always been a futon for him in that second bedroom. A section of wardrobe and drawers contained towels and spare clothes for him as well. It’s true, he doesn’t even live here, but -

Risu slaps Ai’s upper back. “Don’t worry, it won’t be _too_ easy for me to accidentally wear _your_ clothes. Mine are always nicer,” he states with a cheerful grin.

No… Ai is not being displaced by Risu moving into that room. Of course not.

Ai raises his brows. “That’s one way of saying you have a weird fashion sense,” he remarks.

Risu draws his head back. “Yeah, well – you have _no_ fashion sense.”

He jumps slightly when an armful of his folded clothes collide against his right elbow, seemingly out of nowhere.

“You’ll have more time to bicker when we’re done moving everything. That is, when you two get a room all to yourselves.” Kamiz steadily moves the pile into Risu’s hands.

“Got it, sis,” he replies, a slight blush visible beneath his playful smile.

Between the three of them, they soon finish settling Risu’s new domain within the same apartment.

 _‘Risu doesn’t fear sleeping alone,’_ Ai muses. _‘Even if he does on most nights, I’ll end up sharing his room on sleepovers.’_

“Here – just like you asked.”

Kamiz hands Risu a sheet of stickers – various cartoony designs of cacti and succulents. He can use those to mark or decorate his cabinets and drawers.

When Risu hugs his adoptive sister, Ai notices him resting his chin on top of Kamiz’s head. “Thanks for letting me have my own room.”

“Yeah, don’t rub it in.”

When the siblings part from the hug, there is exasperation in Kamiz’s eyes - but her mouth is curved in a smile.

“What should we cook for dinner? Pizza or sukiyaki?” she wonders.

“Whatever makes me grow taller faster,” Risu answers, looking more satisfied than he should be about his growth spurt.

**...**

**1977**

At 3 years old, Ai Coleman has a passing interest in sorcerers.

The Coleman apartment is on a rather high floor of the complex, but its inhabitants can still look out the window or balcony at the ruckus going on below.

Adult-sized individuals in masks – zooming and bouncing from wall to wall, smoke trailing from their hands – whoop and laugh as they knock over plant pots and snatch clothes from overhanging laundry lines.

Little Ai does not yet know why the other adults on streets or in buildings are angry at the masked ones. All he sees is that the masked people shooting smoke are having lots of fun flying around.

“Sorcerers again,” his grandfather grumbles, going back inside and locking the balcony sliding door.

“Saucers?” Ai tries to pronounce the word.

Still looking out the window, he wants to follow the masked people’s movement as best he can, but they disappear from sight beneath ground-floor awnings.

“It’s those masked troublemakers,” Ai’s father Akita says. “Look after Ai, will you, old man? I need to check on the shop.”

Grandpa lets out a mocking scoff. “Lotta difference that’s gonna make. If I were you, I don’t wanna be there when they wreck the joint.”

Ai peels himself from the window and toddles toward his father.

“Can I go with you, Dad?”

Akita Coleman sets his satchel down and kneels to talk to Ai at his height.

“No, Ai-chan. It’s better that you stay here at home, where it’s safe.” The man’s smile of warmth fades, replaced by worry creasing his forehead. “Sorcerers are dangerous, and you should stay away from them.”

Ai stares after his father – picking up the satchel, then leaving through the door and closing it.

**...**

**1978**

Two months after Ai’s 4th birthday, Grandpa is in a sour mood.

“While you two go out to the city, I have to stay home and look after the brat. Sure, sounds good,” he says acidly.

Hannah gives her father-in-law an apologetic smile.

“I’d rather be working at the clinic, but so many patients and doctors there are asking for a specific type of painkiller,” she explains.

“And I’m going with Hannah to keep her safe from sorcerers. I’m sure Ai-chan won’t pose as much trouble to you,” Akita comments good-naturedly.

Hannah gives Ai a hug and a kiss. “We’ll be gone for three days, hopefully less. I’ll miss you, Ai-chan.”

“I love you, Mom.”

“I love you, too.”

Akita ruffles Ai’s hair, causing some longer strands to fall over his eyes. Ai looks up as his father softly claps his back.

“Remember what I always tell you?”

“Sorcerers are dangerous, so stay away from them.”

“That’s correct, my boy.”

“You two’d better come back soon, you hear?” Grandpa calls from the open front door of the Coleman apartment.

“Loud and clear, old man,” Akita responds almost as audibly from the growing distance.

**...**

Three days turned into seven.

It was the first time Ai remembered Grandpa as more than a bitter old man. With Ai still by his side and under his care, Grandpa went on the road and faced so many strangers, asking question after question to find out where the Coleman couple were.

Grandpa started with the clinic where Hannah worked, of course. The search took the two around much of Central Hole, with no results for three full days. In all that time, Grandpa sounded so optimistic, giving Ai hope that they will find his parents soon enough.

At dawn on the fifth day of the search, a mailman anxiously informed Grandpa that the bodies of a young couple had been found by volunteer cleaners. Somehow they had been found and recovered from an alley in Migimaru Hole.

In the dingy neighbourhood council branch office, staff with clipboards and pens emotionlessly told Grandpa that the couple’s bodies were looted of all valuables.

_Bodies… as if they’re not even people anymore._

“… most likely a robbery gone violent,” an older staff member said.

“It isn’t the work of sorcerers, is it?” Ai squeaks out, his eyes hot with tears.

“No – your parents were robbed and killed by plain ol’ humans. The Migimaru district is full of nasty people.”

Thinking back, Ai wondered – if the neighbourhood office staff had not spoken up – whether Grandpa would somehow try to pin the Coleman couple's death on sorcerers who had nothing to do with the heinous crime.

**...**

**1980**

Grandpa was too old to take over work at Akita’s co-owned shop, and he did not have much medical knowledge so he couldn’t take up Hannah’s former role. So he had no choice but to return to the somewhat simpler work of scavenging usable goods and peddling them.

_‘He must feel fortunate that work is keeping him busy. Then he doesn’t have to waste his time looking after a brat like me.’_

The Hole neighbourhood council always maintained small informal ‘schools’ to help look after children of busy parents. Although good daycare centres are few and far in between, Grandpa manages to find one – called Stovepipe – within walking distance of the Coleman household’s apartment complex.

At 6 years old, Ai is not shy, but most of the other children at Stovepipe think he is gloomy or boring. He doesn’t like sports or games of pretend, and he’s not hesitant to make blunt statements or questions that make some kids – and even adults – uncomfortable.

Then again, Ai does not much mind being alone. Until one day he and another boy – a free-spirited redhead named Tiger – get called aside after class for drawing Sorcerers.

Tiger’s crude drawing shows two of them flying on brooms over Hole’s city buildings. The Sorcerers are making finger guns and shooting Smoke, with bright childishly-drawn smiles on their masked faces. Ai just drew one opening a metallic door to a multicoloured world with a rainbow.

“We understand you kids should feel free to draw what you want,” their group teacher Devine informed them with a worried look, “but you have to be careful who you show these to. Sorcerers are evil and cruel, they’re not to be depicted lightly. Some of your friends’ families were their victims – how do you think they will react if they see you drawing Sorcerers with big smiles?”

That time, Ai and Tiger looked at each other and nodded. It was something useful for them to know. More than that, Ai has since found a friend to talk to about sorcerers.

**...**

“Do you think anyone is living in that house?”

“It looks big, but – the windows look dead.”

Tiger knows Ai is a gloomy kid, but sheesh, he’s also good at sounding dark or creepy.

Now that he thinks about it, it seems fitting that Ai was the one to find their perfect secret Sorcerer Club headquarters.

The front door was boarded up and the back door was locked. But there was a cat-flap near the bottom of the back door. After half an hour of creative and determined fiddling using sticks and twine, Ai and Tiger manage to unlock the back door and let themselves have the run of the place.

The interior was dusty, as if no living being has been around for years. There were no appliances in the kitchen, but Ai found some empty jars – “To put our collectibles in,” he said.

“What do we collect?” Tiger asked. He did not bring anything extraordinary in his school backpack.

Apparently Ai had been carrying small sachets of loose sorcerer teeth in one of his bag’s smaller compartments.

Tiger freaked out at first, but then Ai apologised and accompanied him out of the kitchen where he left those jars.

The two boys did some sweeping in the living room. There are no seating cushions to be found, and the one mattress on this floor was stained and worn out. Ai ends up using the hollow mattress to store his jars.

Not that there is much need to hide, though. As they have observed from outside, passers-by can’t see into the windows of this old house.

Now this place belongs to the secret Sorcerer Club. This is where they freely draw, talk, and write about sorcerers without worrying what adults think.

Tiger goes with Ai to their secret-base almost every day from then onwards. It is usually after Stovepipe that they sneak into the place, bringing paper, books, pencils, and crayons when they can. Of course, neither of them are good at writing, but Ai often tries harder at it. Tiger usually ends up doodling away on drawing sheets.

It’s nice here. Ai always asks questions about the sorcerers Tiger draws. So he spends his time here chatting and babbling on about those sorcerers.

“This was at a basketball game near the city outskirts – there’s a very pretty girl with black hair also watching the game with her parents. I wanted to get to know her better, but when I followed them to an alley, she and her family just vanished.”

“Did you smell smoke at the time?”

“Probably…”

Tiger shows Ai another drawing: a pair of masked adults buying hot dogs and other snacks for an entourage of children. Some of the young ones emit smoke out of their fingertips.

“And I’ve never seen those people again.”

“What about those sorcerers on brooms you said your dad saw? Say, how do you think their brooms stay in the air like that?”

“I – I have no idea, Ai-kun. I’m sorry I don’t have all the answers.”

“That’s okay, Tiger! I just hope I’m not bothering you with all these questions.”

“Bother me?” The red-haired boy forms a fist and lightly punches Ai on the shoulder. “Of course not. You’re the only person other than my parents that I can talk about sorcerers with.”

His face lights up in a big grin. “I’m glad you’re my friend, Ai-kun.”

Ai pauses then in a moment of soft realisation – that he is not alone.

“Friend…”

**...**

Today the boys sneak into the rundown house the way they usually do. But while Ai rattles off about the hair he collected off a sorcerer’s corpse on the way to the Stovepipe, Tiger lies face-up on the tattered cushion, only half-listening to him.

Ai puts the jars away and sits nearby.

“Are you feeling okay, Tiger?” he asks, placing one hand on his friend’s forehead.

“I’m fine. I just – didn’t sleep well last night,” Tiger explains, bringing his body upright.

Ai’s usually-narrow eyes now widen in concern. “Did something happen at home?”

“Not yet…” Tiger pulls his knees to his chest and hugs his legs. “Do you remember the time a big dog kept barking at me and scared me?”

“Yeah, that happened last week. Did it bother you again?”

“No, but…” He sighs. “When I talked to my parents about it, my dad kept seeing it as sorcerers scaring me instead.”

“What? That’s ridiculous.”

He keeps his eyes lowered. “Because of this, my dad and mom made the decision – they wanna move out of Central Hole.”

Ai’s posture slumps. Before Tiger can cry, he puts on a tough face – it’s easier to do this in the absence of that damn dog.

“I don’t wanna become some farm boy. I want to stay in the city and keep watching sorcerers with Ai-kun!”

Ai hesitates, but he takes one of Tiger’s hands – and he lurches forward to hug him.

“It’s sad and it’s not fair, but – you have family that will take care of you, Tiger.”

His arms curl even tighter around Ai. He has heard what happened to his parents, how he’s staying with only his granddad now. It’s not fair…

Tiger lets go of Ai. His black hair is growing rather long. The gloomy boy will have to study sorcerers and gather notes all by himself when he is gone.

“I’m sorry I can’t stay long today. My parents are making the move soon, maybe by next week.”

Ai keeps busy by arranging his notes on sorcerers. There are familiar drawings, both Tiger’s and his, which he turned into detailed diagrams.

Tiger looks over a large drawing with labelled fingers, mouth, and stomach. “I don’t know if there will be any sorcerers in the fringe farm areas. But you and I know they are people not too different from us.” He smirks at Ai. “Maybe I’ll grow strong enough so that I can go against them. But I won’t kill them if I can help it.”

Ai responds with a wan smile. “That’s a really nice idea, Tiger-kun.”

He wraps an arm around Ai’s shoulders. “C’mon, lighten up! I won’t grow to be as gloomy as you, sure, but I won’t forget you.”

The two tussle playfully, but soon look each other in the eyes.

“You won’t forget me?”

“Of course I won’t.” Tiger bonks his forehead lightly against Ai’s. “I don’t know if my parents will keep letting me attend school after today. But man, I hope I can still see more sorcerers while I’m alive.”

“I hope so, too.”

**...**

After one last hug between the two boys, Tiger packs up and makes his way home.

 _‘And what of my own home? Can I even call it that?’_ Ai wonders.

He spends a few more hours in the rundown house, reading the notes he prepared. They are his own observations, as well as Tiger’s sorcerer sightings.

_‘Becoming stronger than sorcerers, but not to kill them.’_

_“Sorcerers are dangerous, so stay away from them,”_ his late father had said.

Dangerous, huh? Then maybe it would’ve helped to _be_ dangerous – if anything, at least more so than the opportunistic robbers in Migimaru Hole.

_‘Many humans are dangerous, too. But if one sorcerer can be more dangerous than those humans…’_

When the first streetlamps of the evening light up, Ai packs up his bag. He stores his and Tiger’s notes in the hollow mattress, out of plain sight even if other people happen to enter the house.

The alleyway is clear, so he quietly shuts the back door behind him and trots toward the main road. The throng of adults mostly ignore him, minding their steps on uneven walking paths and over pothole-dotted roads.

A few more familiar turns, and soon the large apartment complex comes into view.

“Have you seen my grandson anywhere?”

Ai frowns. Grandpa is hollering up a storm at the front gate guards.

“Look, he must’ve stayed back at the kids’ learning place. He has friends, doesn’t he?” a nonchalant man asks through the cigarette in his mouth.

“There he is now,” a younger guard points out Ai’s approach.

With long strides, Grandpa swiftly reaches Ai and scoops him up into a hug.

“Where have you been, Ai? I was worried when I got home and you weren’t there.” Even after loosening his arms when the hug ends, Grandpa keeps holding Ai in his hands.

“Grandpa, I can walk,” Ai mumbles out.

“What, after going to Stovepipe and back all by yourself? It’s no problem, I can carry you until we get to our door.”

With Tiger leaving Central Hole, “all by himself” is how he will spend his time thinking about and studying sorcerers.

“Let’s go home now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The [image](https://kurokonobasuke.fandom.com/wiki/Tatsuya_Himuro?file=Himuro_teaches_Kagami.png) that gave rise to the idea of Tiger as Ai’s childhood friend…


End file.
